


The Room with the Yellow Door

by Fox_Salz



Category: Gravity Falls
Genre: Agender Grunkle Ford, Alternate Universe, Aromantic Grunkle Ford, Aromantic Grunkle Stan, Asexual Grunkle Ford, Bisexual Grunkle Stan, Gen, Trans Dipper Pines, Trans Mabel Pines, mild horror elements
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-10-01
Updated: 2016-10-31
Packaged: 2018-08-18 20:55:28
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 15
Words: 26,761
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8175841
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Fox_Salz/pseuds/Fox_Salz
Summary: After moving into Gravity Flats, an old house made into separate apartments, Dipper and Mabel Pines stumble on a strange yellow door. Opening it at first seems to open onto a dream come true, but it quickly turns into a nightmare.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Welcome to the glorious month of Halloween! As I’ve been talking about, here’s the first chapter of the Coraline/Gravity Falls mash-up fic. Hope you enjoy.

It was Dipper who stumbled across the door first while they were moving everything in. 

 

They had moved to a quaint little town and into an old house that had been sectioned off into parts. They had neighbors in the flat above and below, but the one besides theirs was empty; he supposed that’s where this door led. He tried to open it but it wouldn’t budge.

 

“What’s up, Dip’n’dots?”

 

Dipper jumped and looked back at his grinning twin. She had a large box in her arms labeled “yarn: don’t squish!”. 

 

“Don’t sneak up on me!” Mabel laughed and he turned around, trying to hide his reddening cheeks. “I found this door, but it’s locked.”

 

“I’ve never seen a yellow door before,” Mabel commented, setting the box down. She came over to Dipper and tried the knob for herself; her results were the same as his. 

 

“Maybe it was popular in the seventies? Though I’ve never seen a design like this.”

 

Dipper had seen doors with square indentions before, and even oblong ones, but this door had triangles. All around it was bizarre and off-putting. Which just fueled his curiosity.

 

“Maybe grunkle Ford has the key,” Mabel suggested, already grabbing his arm and dragging him to the kitchen. 

 

It wasn’t their grunkle Ford they found there, however, but rather his twin. Stan was whistling some tune the kids knew was a sailor’s song. Mabel tugged on his shirt and he glanced down.

 

“Hey, gremlins, what’cha need?”

 

“Grunkle Stan, there’s a weird door in that room,” Dipper explained. “Do you have the key to it?”

 

“Go ask Ford. You know how he think’s he’s the only one responsible enough not to lose things.”

 

“That, Stanley,” a new voice interjected, “is because anytime I hand you something important it goes missing.”

 

Grunkle Ford came up to the group, laying a box on the counter. He ruffled both the kids’ hair, making Mabel giggle while Dipper smiled shyly.

 

“Baseless lies,” Stan denied. “Don’t listen to him, kids.”

 

“Need I remind you of the time you lost a whole anchor?”

 

Stan groaned, throwing his arms up in defeat. “I can never live that one down, huh Sixer?”

 

Ford simply grinned at his brother and requested, “There are some heavy boxes still out there if you wouldn’t mind.” Shaking his head good naturedly Stan left. “So, children, what do you need?”

 

“Grunkle Ford, do you have a key for this strange door in the other room?”

 

Ford checked the numerous pockets of his jacket until he procured a set of keys. He selected the biggest, oldest looking one. It was black, rusted, and the end reminded the twins of an old-timey top hat.

 

“Ah, here we are! Come, children.”

 

They followed him to the yellow door and watched as he unlocked it. It swung open to reveal a brick wall. 

 

“Aww,” Mabel pouted.

 

“Sorry if you’re disappointed, dear. This was boarded up a long time ago when the house was sectioned. I’m afraid it leads nowhere now.”

 

Ford closed the door and pocketed the keys.

 

“Grunkle Ford, you didn’t lock it,” Dipper pointed out.

 

“I don’t suppose it matters much either way.”

 

The kids couldn’t argue that. They followed him back out and continued moving in.

 

——

 

On their second day there Mabel dragged Dipper out to meet their neighbors. First they stopped to meet Mrs. and Mrs. Ramirez. Or Susan and Juanita, as they insisted the twins call them. They lived with more cats than Mabel could count—and she tried!—all named things like Jeff, Shmebulock, and Mr. Cat Face. 

 

“We got all kinds of customers,” Susan said proudly, taking a sip of her omelet coffee. It was apparently a special recipe they used to serve in their restaurant she had been telling them about. It belonged to Juanita’s favorite grandson now.

 

“Oh, yes,” Juanita agreed. 

 

“Enough about us, what about you kids? We saw those men you moved in with. That one was cute.” Juanita gave her an amused sideways glance. “Are one of them your dad?”

 

“Our great uncles,” Dipper replied, swinging his legs awkwardly.

 

“Grunkle Stan and Ford. They adopted us after our parents died.”

 

Dipper glared at his sister. He hated telling people why they lived with their grunkles, but Mabel never seemed to mind oversharing. What he couldn’t stand was people’s pity when they knew. Thankfully the old women didn’t look at them any differently.

 

“They seem nice. We’ll have to have them over for tea one day.”

 

“Yes,” Juanita agreed. “Maybe when my sweet Soos comes over with his fiancé next weekend. I’m so happy he found someone before I rotted away into ash.”

 

“ _Wow_ ,” Dipper breathed, taken aback at the woman’s bluntness. “Well, we should be going. Come on, Mabel.”

 

Dipper dragged his sister out of there, intent on going back up to their flat. Mabel, however, kept going right up the stairs to their other neighbor’s and he had no choice but to follow.

 

He was an old man, possibly crazy. His stark white beard was certainly long. Dipper imagined he could wrap it around his neck like a scarf. Also there was a raccoon on his shoulder that stared at him and Mabel in a way that sent shivers down his spine. Apparently he had more and was training them in little circus acts. 

 

“‘Course I can’t let anyone see until they’re a-ready. The missus here is especially shy.”

 

McGucket handed the raccoon the rest of his apple which she readily took. Neither of the twins had ever seen a raccoon this close up before, and definitely not while eating. It made Dipper a little nervous; Mabel cooed.

 

“I love her! When they’re ready we’ll be to the first performance!”

 

Dipper tried not to groan since grunkle Ford had taught him to be polite. When they had left the old man and raccoon, though, he told her, “Yeah, he’s crazy.”

 

“Rude.”

 

“Mabel, raccoons are not cut out for the circus. Have you ever heard of a performing raccoon?”

 

“That’s why he’s an innovator,” Mabel protested. Dipper sighed but let the argument drop.


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The yellow door just gets more mysterious.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The majority of this chapter is cute family fluff. I make no apologies.

The next morning Dipper woke up late. He jetted out of his room, smacking into something almost immediately. Looking up he saw it was grunkle Stan.

 

“Whoa, kid, where’s the fire?”

 

“Mabel threatened to put glitter all over my breakfast the next time I let it get cold.”

 

“Yeesh. Let’s go stop her before she does the same to mine.”

 

Together they walked into the kitchen. Mabel and grunkle Ford were there already, one sitting on the counter while the other leaned against it. There was a clear pitcher half full of a hot pink liquid between them. It had a mixture of confetti and plastic dinosaurs inside. _Mabel Juice_.

 

“Yeah, I’m gonna go check where the nearest hospital is for your upcoming heart attack,” Stan said, eyeing his brother warily.

 

“Nonsense, Stanley, you worry too much. I’m only on my third cup.”

 

“Forth?” Mabel offered.

 

“Hold on, dear, let me finish this one first. What do you know, it appears I already did. Hm. Don’t remember drinking that.”

 

Already refilling his cup she assured, “I got you, grunkle Ford.”

 

“Help them,” Dipper pleaded. Stan shook his head. 

 

“There’s nothing we can do, kid.”

 

Mabel tried to pour drinks for them, but they steadfastly refused. Dipper hurriedly scarfed down his breakfast. As soon as he was finished he and Mabel left to go explore outside, promising to return for lunch.

 

There was a large garden with all sorts of pretty flowers. Thanks to grunkle Ford’s teachings Mabel could name them all. Flower species had never been Dipper’s strong suit so he listened to Mabel’s explanations while she picked a bunch of yellow ones, stringing them together into two flower crowns.

 

“Viola praemorsa, better known as canary violets. Incredibly pretty and make great crowns. This one’s yours.” 

 

She placed it on his head then bopped him playfully on the nose before running off. He rubbed the spot indignantly before chasing after her. They ran all around the expansive garden, laughter filling the otherwise quiet grounds. After a while they collapse at the edge of the garden where things had been left to overgrow. 

 

Something caught Mabel’s eyes and she glanced over at a moving bush. She heard a snort and her eyes lit up when a pink faced popped up.

 

“Pig!” she squealed. “Dipper, look! It has a little brown ring around it’s eye.”

 

“Mabel, it could be wild and dangerous. We should—“

 

It was too late. Mabel had already run towards the pig. For a split second panic seized Dipper, but then the pig pressed its head against Mabel’s outstretched hand and let her pet it. First he sighed in relief, then rolled his eyes.

 

While his sister got acquainted with the pig he wandered around a little. Soon he came upon a boarded up well. It was short enough that he could stand on his tiptoes to peer through a knothole. He couldn’t see much, and his imagination ran wild. A monster could be trapped down there! Something with scales or tentacles, that hungered for it’s favorite long-denied treat—human flesh.

 

Something touched his shoulder and with a yelp he jumped. Mabel howled with laughter. He narrowed his eyes, but soon forgot his anger as she asked about the well.

 

“I bet it goes down for miles.”

 

“Let’s find out,” she said, searching around for a rock.

 

She found one and dropped it down the hole. With bated breath they waited until they heard the faint _plop_ of it slapping against the water.

 

“You’d never get back up if you fell down,” Mabel said. Dipper whistled in agreement. 

 

That was how they spent the next few weeks, exploring the grounds or chatting with their neighbors. Occasionally they saw Mabel’s pig again, though he never stuck around for long. They also had a few lessons with grunkle Ford, and boxing lessons with grunkle Stan. Mostly though the former was busy preparing for the upcoming school year where he’d be teaching at the local community college. Grunkle Stan, too, would be teaching a boxing class at the rec center. 

 

So, between their prepping and fixing their new home up, their grunkles were far too busy to spend much time with them outside of meals or wishing them goodnight. Which was fine with the kids since there was so much to explore! Until the day they couldn’t because it was raining. Not just raining, but _pouring_.

 

“It’s not that bad,” Mabel protested, looking up at grunkle Ford with pleading eyes.

 

“You’re not going out in that sweetie, and that’s final.”

 

In unison the twins exclaimed, “But grunkle Ford!”

 

He held up a silencing hand. “Now, children, if I let you go out in these conditions you could get seriously ill. Hypothermia is a serious—and deadly—possibility.”

 

“But then what’ll we do for fun?” Mabel whined.

 

“There are plenty of books to read.” Mabel groaned. “You have several boxes filled with boardgames.”

 

“Those need to be unpacked first, and we’ve already played all of them a thousand times.”

 

Grunkle Ford gave them a pointed look. “You could unpack them.”

 

Again speaking as one they said, “Pass.”

 

Suddenly brightening Dipper asked, “Can you play ‘Dungeons, Dungeons, and More Dungeons’ with us? Please, grunkle Ford?”

 

Ford rubbed his chin contemplatively. “Well, I suppose my work can wait. Alright, Dipper.” The boy gave a cheer. “Care to join us, Mabel?”

 

“Hold that thought. Grunkle Stan!” she hollered. “They’re doing it again!”

 

From the other room Stan called out, “Nerds!”

 

Dipper and Ford adopted similar looks of exasperation as the other man came into the kitchen.

 

“Sixer, what have I told you about corrupting my pumpkin with your nerd game. Isn’t it enough you tricked Dipper into playing it?”

 

“Grunkle Stan, I _like_ ‘D, D, and more D’.”

 

“And I’m sorry I couldn’t save you.”

 

“This coming from a man obsessed with ‘The Duchess Approves’,” Ford teased.

 

“Hey, that is quality entertainment!”

 

“Ooh! This should be a family bonding day!” Mabel interjected excitedly, throwing her arms up. “We should eat nothing but junk food and play games that aren’t totally boring.” She ignored Dipper’s foul look. “Please grunkle Ford? Grunkle Stan?”

 

The men caved. Grunkle Stan popped some popcorn and got them all Pitt Colas while the younger twins rummaged around for a board game. They ended up playing several different ones, never making it far in any game. It either devolved into everyone accusing Mabel and Stan of cheating (they were), siblings throwing game pieces at each other, or their grunkles would get distracted telling them amazing stories from their travels.

 

Before adopting Dipper and Mabel they had sailed the seven seas in their boat, searching for supernatural creatures. They’d been to so many different places and seen so many bizarre and cool things that the kids always loved to hear their tales. It thrilled them, and desperately made them itch to have their own adventures.

 

Sometimes their grunkles would still go out researching strange phenomena, but they were never allowed to tag along. Too dangerous they were always told. Frankly, they couldn’t wait until they were old enough to meet mermaids or wrestle werewolves, too.

 

Eventually everyone gave up on board games altogether and somehow a game of hide-and-seek got started up. Dipper ran into the room with the yellow door. No one really came in there, and nothing had been set up. There were a few boxes there temporarily until someone got around to unloading them, and a lounge chair pushed to the corner. 

 

Dipper had planned on hiding behind it, but when he approached that side of the room he was drawn to the strange door. A shiver ran down his spine, but he didn’t know why.

 

Then it occurred to him: _there was a scratching sound coming from the other side._

 

For a minute he stood there staring at the strangely colored wood, half expecting the door to burst open. When it didn’t he tentatively reached out towards the doorknob, but as soon as his hand touched the chillingly cold metal the noise stopped. Dipper’s brow furrowed and he firmly gripped the handle. Why was it so cold? The rest of the room was just fine.

 

Suddenly the door—leading into the room, no the yellow one—creaked open. Dipper spun around. It was only Mabel.

 

“Dipper! You’re all out in the open,” Mabel chastised. “Grunkle Stan will find you in no time.”

 

“Mabel, there’s something behind the door. I heard it.”

 

Mabel came over and pressed her ear against the wood. She strained to hear what her brother had, but there was just silence now.

 

“Weird. Maybe it was just an animal or something?”

 

“Maybe,” he agreed, sounding very unconvinced. 

 

“Did you open it?”

 

“Mabel, there’s a brick wall behind it.”

 

“Yeah, last time. Maybe something change.”

 

“What, like it just mysteriously de-bricked itself?”

 

“Hey, Dip Dip, you’re the one who heard some weird noise.”

 

Well, she had him there. Dipper took a deep breath and grabbed the knob again. Before he could turn it, though, a new voice startled him.

 

“There you gremlins are! Been lookin’ all over for ya.”

 

“Grunkle Stan! You win!” Mabel congratulated. With a running start she launched herself into his arms for a big hug.

 

“Did you already find grunkle Ford?” Dipper asked, hand dropping from the door.

 

“Yup. He already started dinner. Let’s go bug him.”

 

Grunkle Stan carried Mabel out and Dipper followed, the door momentarily forgotten. 

 

That night he was laying in bed about to drift off when a strange tapping jerked him awake. At first he thought the rain had returned. When he sat up, though, he knew it was coming from the hallway. 

 

Dipper stepped out of bed and tiptoed to the hall. He looked both ways, but nothing was there. He walked down the right, where his grunkles’ rooms were, and listened. There was snoring from one (grunkle Stan) and sleeping murmurs from the other (grunkle Ford). 

 

He went back the way he’d come, convinced he had imagined it. Before he could go to his room, however, Mabel popped out of hers.

 

“Dipper,” she whispered, “were you tapping on the floor or something right now?”

 

He shook his head, eyes widening. They both caught a shadow moving in their peripheral vision and turned. Whatever it was scuttled away. The twins quickly hurried after it. 

 

It raced into the room with the yellow door. They shared a glance, hesitating just a moment before following. 

 

The room was very dark, only a faint glow coming from the moon peeking in through the window. Just as Dipper was reaching for the light switch the dark shape skirted around their feet and towards the other side of the room.

 

Dipper flipped the switch. There was nothing there, except the yellow door. Which was suspiciously cracked just an inch.

 

They approached the door slowly. Mabel nudged it wider with her foot. Nothing save bricks greeted them.

 

Sharing another look they silently decided to shut the door and go back to bed, both going to Dipper’s room. It took a bit, but eventually they fell into sleep. While Mabel dreamt of dark shapes crowding around her threateningly, Dipper had visions of yellow eyes watching him from an otherwise dark abyss.

 


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The twins receive some warnings, and a small stone.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Oh hey the chapter where I finally state that both the grunkles are aro in this. Oh and plot or whatever.

The rain had thankfully stopped, but a thick mist had taken it’s place, enveloping the large old house tightly. Still, it was good enough weather for their grunkles to let them play outside until lunch.

 

Susan was out walking with several of the cats. She waved the twins over.

 

“Hey, there, little Pines!”

 

“Hi, Susan,” they chimed together.

 

“I can’t believe you kids are out in this weather.”

 

“We’re very sturdy,” Mabel replied.

 

“Is this mist normal?”

 

“I’ve never seen it this bad since I’ve lived here,” the woman admitted. “Be good, Jeff!”

 

The cat, who had been pawing at a loose thread on Mabel’s sweater, backed off. His tail swished as he watched her. Mabel shuddered under his intense gaze.

 

“Maybe this weekend you kids and your grunkles can finally come on over for dinner. Do they like pie?”

 

“Yes, ma’am.”

 

“Apple!” Mabel exclaimed. Susan beamed at her.

 

“Apple pie it is. You just tell those grunkles of yours. Especially the cute one. Well, come on kitties, let’s go.”

 

Jeff swiped at Mabel’s sleeve one last time before trotting after his human. She blew a raspberry at the retreating cat.

 

“Mabel, seriously?”

 

“He started it!”

 

Dipper rolled his eyes and they continued their walk, going around the house. After a minute they spotted Juanita in the doorway of her shared flat.

 

“Hello, _niños_. Have you seen Susan around?” 

 

“She’s, um, walking the cats I think.”

 

The old woman nodded as though that made perfect sense. 

 

“I hope she doesn’t get lost. In this fog you need to be an explorer to find your way around.”

 

“We’re explorers!” Mabel announced proudly.

 

“Very good. I go watch my _novela_ now.”

 

She nodded goodbye to them before going inside. The twins circled the house, always making sure to keep it in sight. Mabel was hoping to catch a glimpse of her pig, but there had been no signs of him by the time they ended up where they had begun.

 

The fog had dampened their hair and clothes, so both clung to them uncomfortably. Dipper was about to suggest they go inside for some hot chocolate when a voice called out to them.

 

“Kids!”

 

It was that crazy old man from upstairs. He was at the top coming down and they waited for him, calling out their own greetings.

 

“What a day! The raccoons hate this weather.”

 

“Ugh, us, too,” Mabel agreed. 

 

Then McGucket leaned down so he was inches from their faces. Mabel and Dipper could feel long stray whiskers brush against their skin. In a conspiratorial whisper he told them, “The raccoons have a massage fer ya. _Don’t go through the door_.” He paused, looking at them curiously. “Mean anythin’ to ya?”

 

The twins shared a look then shook their heads.

 

“Nope, no idea.”

 

“Hm. I reckon they musta gotten it wrong then. Well bye!”

 

He went back up to his flat. The kids watched him disappear before going into their own home.

 

Grunkle Ford was in his study fervently writing away in the journals he kept on supernatural creatures. He promised to tell them all about what he was working on later, then shooed them away.

 

They tried grunkle Stan. He was in the room he’d chosen as the gym. He was still in the process of setting everything up, and appeared to be on break with his back to the twins. They snuck up right behind him and exclaimed his name. He jumped, dropping his “Gold Chains for Old Men” magazine.

 

“Jeez, kids, you’re gonna give me a heart attack!”

 

“Grunkle Stan, we’re bored,” Mabel informed.

 

“Fight each other, then,” he suggested. 

 

As Mabel’s face brightened at the prospect, Dipper’s paled.

 

“We could play chess instead?” he tried.

 

Grunkle Stan tossed boxing gloves at his face. Knowing there was no way out of this Dipper sighed and put his gear on. By the time he was ready Mabel had already been in place for a few minutes, teasing him.

 

“Ready to go down, Dipper?”

 

“Let’s rumble, Mabel.”

 

He did not last thirty seconds. 

 

“It’s okay, bro bro,” Mabel said, standing over him. She reached out a gloved hand to help him up. “I’m fine with being the strong twin. I’ve got to look out for my little brother, after all.”

 

“We were born five minutes apart.”

 

It was too late, Mabel was already chanting, “Alpha twin! Alpha twin!”

 

“Yeah, I’m done here.”

 

Dipper took off the boxing gear and left. He walked aimlessly, and found himself at the room with the yellow door. He glanced around with narrowed eyes but didn’t see anything amiss. No hiding shadows, and the door was closed. He went over and tried the knob.

 

Weird. Grunkle Ford must have decided to lock it. 

 

He was going to go ask when he ran into Mabel. She grabbed his arm and started dragging him towards the front door.

 

“Let’s get out of here before grunkle Stan puts us to work.”

 

They decided to go visit Mrs. and Mrs. Ramirez. Susan opened the door and ushered them in with a chipper smile.

 

“Jeff! You leave Mabel’s sweater alone, naughty boy. Do you kids want some tea? I just made some.”

 

“Uh, sure,” Dipper mumbled, looking around at the assortment of cats. They all looked very unimpressed with him.

 

“Yes, please,” Mabel said more politely.

 

They followed her into the room she called the parlor where Juanita was. It was decorated on every wall with photos. Some where of a young man or a little boy that had to be Juanita’s grandson at different stages. Then there were pictures of a quaint diner that they assumed was the one the old women used to own.

 

The twins sat on the couch across from Juanita. Susan poured them both a drink in dainty little teacups Dipper was terrified of dropping. She even served them peanut butter cookies.

 

“Have as many as you like.”

 

Mabel, ever courteous, took her up on the offer and shoved two in her mouth at once. Dipper scrunched up his face and nudged her. At least she had the decency to look sheepish. Not that it stopped her from taking a third cookie.

 

“You invited your grunkles for dinner, _sí_?” Juanita asked.

 

“Uh, they were really busy, sorry. We’ll ask them tonight.”

 

“I hope you don’t get your hopes up about them,” Mabel started. “I know our grunkles are quite the hunkles—”

 

Dipper groaned and covered his face.

 

“But neither of them are interested in love. Grunkle Stan likes the ladies just fine, and boys too. Anyone, he’s not really picky, but relationships are a no go. And grunkle Ford is completely aro and ace. I think he’d marry the whole field of science if he could.”

 

“Well it’s good to have goals,” Susan mused.

 

“Mabel,” Dipper hissed, “we’ve talked about oversharing.”

 

“And we’ve talked about how honesty is always important,” she countered. 

 

Cutting the children off Juanita said, “I can read the leaves.” They turned to her in confusion and she motioned at their cups. “The tea leaves.”

 

“You can read a person’s future from their tea leaves,” Susan explained. “Juanita’s great at it.”

 

The kids handed their tea cups over and the old woman peered into them intently. A dark cloud passed over her face.

 

“You are in grave danger,” she told them. 

 

“Are you sure?” Susan asked, voice hushed worry. Juanita tipped the cups for her to get a good look at them. “Oh, my.”

 

“What? What are we in danger from?” Dipper asked, leaning forward.

 

“The leaves don’t give you all the details,” Susan replied, “just the general idea.”

 

“Seriously? Then how do we protect ourselves from something we can’t see coming?”

 

Susan got up and went over to the fireplace. She took down a little trinket box, pulling out several small items. Among them was a stone which she brought back to the twins. It had a hole in the middle that you could see right through to the other side with.

 

“What’s this for?” Mabel asked, peering through the hole.

 

“It’s a good luck charm I got years ago. Maybe it’ll help you kids out.”

 

They thanked the women and said goodbye before heading back home. The mist still hung heavy in the air. It seemed to press down on them, like it was trying to squeeze the life from their lungs.

 

They climbed the stairs to their flat, Mabel gazing around with the stone. The world was tiny with it and she found the new view entertaining. 

 

Dipper, meanwhile, looked out at the fog covered grounds with a furrowed brow. He worried about whatever grave danger their leaves had predicted. Part of him, though, couldn’t help thinking it sounded like an adventure.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm glad I got to use the word 'hunkles'.


	4. Chapter 4

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The family goes clothes shopping, and then the kids finally open the door.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> We finally get to see what’s on the other side of that door. And we get to see how many characters I made trans.

The sun was shining brightly the next day, and grunkle Ford decided it was time to take them out shopping for new school clothes. Grunkle Stan tagged along, solely to mock Ford’s fashion sense it seemed.

 

“Sixer, that dress is hideous put it back. Thank Moses I’m here.”

 

“This coming from a man who’s closet is two thirds tacky Hawaiian shirts.”

 

“Hey! That is quality attire.”

 

“The last third is sweaters with puns that Mabel made you.”

 

“‘Sea the World’ is classic, I’ll have you know.”

 

The younger set of twins snickered and wandered off, leaving their old grunkles to argue. Their good-natured teasing had eased some of their worry, but both Mabel and Dipper were still a little on edge.

 

For the first time in several years the twins would be attending public school. Both of them were a bit trepidatious. Ever since a bad incident in the fourth grade grunkle Ford had homeschooled them. When they were seven they had switched genders, Mabel deciding she was a girl and Dipper a boy, and some places they had lived were less accepting than others. (Thankfully grunkle Ford himself was agender, and both he and grunkle Stan fully accepted them.) Grunkle Stan’s boxing lessons came in really handy, then, even if Dipper wasn’t too adept at it; Mabel practiced twice as hard so she could defend them both.

 

Mabel was Dipper’s best friend and Dipper was Mabel’s best friend. They hadn’t been very good at finding any others. Mostly they just found bullies. They were going back to public school so their grunkles would have more time for themselves and both could work. And so maybe they wouldn’t have to worry about them so much.

 

As they looked through one of the racks a voice on the other side caught their attention. “Ugh, I can’t believe summer’s almost over. I have Ms. Watterson again. She’s the _worst_.”

 

“Whatever, as long as I don’t have any classes with Robbie this year. All he ever does is bother me. And that hoodie is starting to smell.”

 

Mabel and Dipper peeked through the hanging clothes in time to see the redhead dramatically groan and proclaim, “High school is where dreams go to die.”

 

Her friend, eyes never leaving the screen of her phone, hummed in agreement.

 

The teens wandered off, and they let the clothes fall back into place. 

 

“It’s going to be okay, right, Dipper?”

 

He gave her a smile that didn’t quite reach his eyes, replying, “Of course it will be, Mabes. In a couple weeks we’re going to be teenagers. Everyone knows that school gets better when you’re a teen. They were just complaining because summer’s ending. That always makes school seem worse than what it really is.”

 

This reassured Mabel, her face brightening to it’s cheery default. She grabbed her brother’s arm and dragged him along the store. She picked out clothes for both of them since she couldn’t trust him to understand fashion. His protests were all weak, and in the end he just let her do her thing. 

 

They bound back to their grunkles. Apparently they hadn’t realized the twins had been gone until Mabel tugged on grunkle Ford’s jacket and they saw their armfuls of outfits.

 

“Ah, that settles that, then.”

 

They bought the clothes and headed home. It was lunchtime, and grunkle Stan opened the fridge. He didn’t find much inside.

 

“Sixer, we forgot to get groceries.”

 

“We’ll have to go back into town. Do you children need anything?”

 

“Nope! You two have fun,” Mabel said, waving them off.

 

Sure their grunkles were gone Dipper and Mabel ran to the yellow door. It was still locked. 

 

The most likely place to find the key was in grunkle Ford’s study. They snuck inside and Dipper pilfered around in his desk. After a few minutes he was holding up the keyring triumphantly.

 

Careful to put everything else back as it had been, the twins raced to the room with the yellow door. Nothing was amiss, as far as they could tell. The boxes piled to the side were undisturbed, some dust was already forming on the mantlepiece. The room appeared very much unused.

 

They felt like the yellow door was watching them.

 

Dipper took the old, black key and slid it into the keyhole. When he turned it there was an audible _clunk_. Dipper shivered; the key was so cold, like touching ice barehanded.

 

The twins turned to each other and nodded. Mabel turned the knob and let the door swing open.

 

The bricks were gone. Instead there was a dark hallway. A strange smell permeated through the corridor, old and musty and making them scrunch up their noses.

 

Dipper took the first, tentative, step. He walked down the corridor, looking all around him. There wasn’t much light, and what light there was he didn’t know where it came from. Whatever it was it helped him see a very familiar setup. 

 

“It looks just like our flat.”

 

“It even has that painting of a boat,” Mabel pointed out.

 

Dipper went over and examined it. Mabel was right, it was the same. Except it seemed…off. Like the colors all had a bit of gray paint mixed into them.

 

He was going to tell Mabel this when he heard their grunkle Stan call out, “Kids?”

 

Curiously they followed the voice to the kitchen. Grunkle Stan was there, his back to them. He seemed to be wearing his suit, though, instead of his usual casual clothes, and was leaning against a thin black cane. And he had a black top hat on. And, if they stared long enough, he seemed to be radiating a strange yellow glow.

 

“That you, kids? It’s lunchtime.”

 

The man turned around. There was an eyepatch covering his left eye; his right one was yellow where there should have been white, and his pupil was large and black.

 

“Who are you?” Dipper asked, inching in front of his sister protectively.

 

“I’m your other grunkle,” the man replied like it was the most obvious thing in the world. “Go and get your other Fordsy.”

 

“Fordsy?” Mabel repeated.

 

“Your other grunkle Ford.” The children didn’t move. “Come on, kids, what are you waiting for? Dinner?”

 

The other grunkle went back to the oven, pulling down its door. The twins were overcome with hunger as a delicious aroma wafted out. Stomachs growling, they decided to go find this other grunkle Ford.

 

They tried his study first. There was indeed a man at the desk, who very much resemble their original grunkle Ford from this angle. Staying in the doorway Dipper said, “Um, hi. I mean, uh, I think lunch is ready?”

 

The man turned around. His eyes were buttons, owlishly round and big, and shiny.

 

“Hello, children. Let’s go see what your other grunkle made.”

 

Together they went to the kitchen. Other grunkle Ford took a seat at the table as other grunkle Stan brought over the food. It was a mouthwatering rotisserie chicken, with mashed potatoes and corn on the cob. 

 

“Eat up, Shooting Star, Pine Tree.”

 

“Shooting Star?”

 

“Pine Tree?”

 

Other grunkle Stan pointed with his cane first to Mabel’s sweater then Dipper’s hat, and the designs there. “Just little nicknames, kids.”

 

Other grunkle Stan stood beside other grunkle Ford’s chair, watching them. The situation was all very bizarre to the kids, but their stomaches angrily demanded food so they each took a seat. After one small bite they were both shoveling food into their mouths.

 

“This is really good!” Mabel complimented.

 

Their other grunkle Ford smiled and told them, “We’ve been waiting for you two.”

 

“Waiting for us?” Dipper asked.

 

“For a long time. But I knew you kids would show up sooner or later. More chicken?”

 

The kids let their other grunkle pile more food onto their plates, generous helpings they knew they couldn’t finish.

 

“So, uh, what exactly is an other grunkle?” Dipper wondered.

 

“Everyone has them,” other grunkle Stan said, not really answering the question. “So what do you want to do after lunch? I hear the raccoons can really put on a show.”

 

“You mean McGucket’s raccoons?” Mabel’s eyes gleamed. “Dipper! I told you they could perform.”

 

“I’ll believe it when I see it.”

 

Mabel stuck out her tongue.

 

“I bet they’re going to be great, and then you’ll have to eat your words.”

 

When they were finished their other grunkles cleaned up the dishes, promising to send the raccoons to their room. So the kids raced each other down the hallway.

 

There was only one room for the both of them, but oddly it didn’t seem crowded at all. A bed was on either side, one with a pink canopy and the other with a hanging lamp over the headboard. The twins instantly knew which belonged to whom.

 

That wasn’t the only difference from their rooms back home. The walls were a deep red, and there was a grand pirate chest they learned was full of toys. Unusual toys they’d never seen before: inhuman shaped dolls that were completely pink and danced on their own, pairs of chattering teeth with gum colored arms and legs, a goblin looking action figure with eight-balls for eyes, little eyeballs with batwings that flew around the room, and so much more. There were also books whose pictures scampered about the pages, even over words.

 

Jumping onto their beds the twins started giggling. Their toys buzzed around them.

 

“You know, Mabel, this isn’t someplace I’d like to sleep in, but it’s pretty neat.”

 

“Heck yeah, bro bro!”

 

Something skittered through the door and under Dipper’s bed. The twins crawled down to investigate. Beneath the bed were dozens of glowing eyes.

 

“Hello,” Mabel greeted. “You’re the raccoons, right?”

 

They came out, blinking rapidly agains the light. They looked just like normal raccoons, though maybe a bit bigger than the one they’d seen with old man McGucket.

 

One, the largest of the bunch, got on its hind legs and held out its paw. Mabel readily took it, shaking the little creature’s fuzzy appendage.

 

“It’s nice to meet you, Ms. Raccoon! I’m Mabel and this is my brother Dipper. I bet our other grunkles already told you about us.”

 

To their surprise the raccoons all nodded in unison. Then they scampered towards the door, where the other McGucket stood. His arms were outstretched towards his pets, holding a brown scarecrow’s hat. They ran up his tall frame and disappeared inside his jacket, the very largest resting on the top of his bald head. Other McGucket put the hat over his raccoon, and it vanished like the rest. 

 

“Hello, kids. It’s feedin’ time fer these little fellas, if’n you want to come watch ‘em eat.”

 

“Uh, no thanks,” Dipper declined. There was a strange glint in his eyes that made him deeply uncomfortable. 

 

“Yeah, we’ve got exploring to do,” Mabel agreed, equally disturbed. 

 

The sound of the raccoons whispering to each other filtered through the other old man’s clothes. The twins couldn’t understand a word, and weren’t sure they wanted to.

 

In the kitchen doorway their other grunkles stood watching them with identical smiles as the kids walked past them. 

 

“Have fun out there, kids,” their other grunkle Stan said.

 

“We’ll wait for you children here,” their other grunkle Ford said.

 

At the front door the twins turned around. Their grunkles were indeed still in the kitchen doorway watching and smiling. They waved, and the kids waved back.

 

Then they walked out and down the steps.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> We're finally getting into the meat of the story.


	5. Chapter 5

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The kids make a new friend, and see an amazing performance.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Finally Waddles reappears.

The house here looked nearly identical to theirs. The only difference they could spot was Mrs. and Mrs. Ramirez’s place. It was a large log, with windows and a door, and above each were identical striped awnings. There was also a neon arrow pointing to the door with flashing bulbs that changed color rapidly. It was attached to a sign that read: GREASY’S DINER.

 

“Well that’s…different,” Dipper remarked.

 

“Ha, it looks like the arrow has an eye on the end, like it’s watching us.” She waved to it.

 

There was a familiar snort behind them and Mabel spun around. Her pig was there, or at least a pig that looked liked the one back home, gazing up at the twins.

 

“There’s an other piggy!” Mabel squealed, loud enough to make Dipper cringe.

 

To their surprise, the pig spoke.

 

“Hello, Mabel. Dipper.”

 

His voice was masculine and deep, but not gruff or throaty like Mabel imagined a talking pig might sound. Almost like a mixture of grunkle Ford and grunkle Stan’s voices.

 

“Oh my gosh you are so cute!” Mabel gushed. “You’re just like the pig back home.”

 

The pig shook his head. “I am the only pig.”

 

“Wait,” Dipper asked, “you mean you’re the pig from our world?”

 

“Indeed.”

 

“Why are you talking?”

 

“Why are you?”

 

Dipper bristled and clarified, “I meant _how_.”

 

“Then you should have asked _how_.”

 

Dipper rolled his eyes. Mabel, meanwhile, had hearts in hers. She got down on her knees to be eye level with the animal.

 

“You are so adorable! Please be my friend, Mr. Piggy!”

 

The pig tilted his head, seeming to consider the offer. Finally he said, “I would like that.”

 

Mabel threw her arms around him. “This is the happiest moment of my life! What’s your name?”

 

“I don’t have one.”

 

Mabel reeled back in shock. “What do you mean? Everyone has a name! Don’t you call yourself something?” The pig shook his head. “Then I’ll have to give you one! Let’s see, I think…I think Waddles fits you.”

 

“Waddles,” he repeated, trying the name out. “I like it.”

 

“Good. I’m glad to formally meet you, Waddles.”

 

When Dipper didn’t say anything she nudged him.

 

“Yeah, sure, whatever,” Dipper grumbled. “Hey, do you know what this place is?”

 

“This place is this place,” Waddles replied simply. Dipper wasn’t impressed.

 

“That’s not really helpful. How’d you even get here?”

 

“Like you—by walking.” Then Waddles pressed his snout against Mabel’s side. “It was good you brought protection.”

 

Puzzled, the twins glanced at each other. In unison they asked, “Protection?”

 

“That’s what I said.” 

 

Before Waddles could elaborate he cocked his head to the side, staring intently at something neither of the twins could see. 

 

Then the pig raced off into the woods without another word.

 

“Well that was weird,” Dipper said after a moment.

 

“Yeah, but at least we made a new friend.” Mabel stood up, dusting her skirt and sweater off. “Hey, Dip’n’dots, do you think pigs can talk at home and they just don’t, or is it only here? How cool would it be to have a talking pig?”

 

“I don’t know, Mabel, but that is a good question. We’ll ask Waddles next time we see him.”

 

Filing the mystery away for later they turned back to Mrs. and Mrs. Ramirez’s place and took the steps to the strange new diner front. It was cracked just a smidgen, and when Dipper knocked it flew open. 

 

They walked into a bustling small town diner. 

 

Several different aromas hit them; fresh pancakes lathered in syrup, sausages right off the stove, sizzling hamburgers, and other foods they couldn’t quite place as it all mingled together in an appetizing conglomeration. Even though they had just had lunch both their stomaches rumbled as though they hadn’t eaten in days.

 

Licking their lips they took a few steps towards the crowded counter, intent on ordering something. They were stopped, however, by a cat in a little waitress outfit carrying a pen and notepad in its mouth. Putting these down the cat asked, “What name are your reservations under?”

 

“We don’t have one.”

 

The cat’s tail flicked. “Of course not. Some people never think ahead. Well, come on.”

 

The cat picked up its things again and trotted through the crowd. The kids looked around, curiously noting that all the other patrons were cats. When their waitress saw they weren’t behind it the creature growled at the twins, causing them to hurry up. 

 

The cat lead them to the very edge of the counter, right across from the kitchen. There were two free stools, and they claimed either one. Their waitress left, grumbling something incomprehensible around the notepad.

 

“This is officially the weirdest thing yet,” Dipper decided.

 

Next to Mabel was a little ginger munchkin cat. It was eagerly propped up on the stool, paws flat on the countertop. 

 

“You are too cute,” Mabel cooed.

 

“Shmebulock,” the cat happily replied. “Senior.”

 

Suddenly there was a loud clatter from the kitchen, drawing everyone’s attention. To the twins’ surprise Susan and Juanita came rolling out on skates, arms piled high with plates. The cats all whooped and hollered excitedly as they delivered orders without slowing down or spilling anything.

 

They spun around the room in perfect sync, never running into each other as they did one legged twirls and impressively high jumps. Then Susan hopped up on the other end of the counter while Juanita followed her below, placing cups in front of each patron that her partner—without slowing or pausing—filled with steaming coffee.

 

Finally Susan got to them. She flashed the twins a smile and wink, then spun on her heels. She gasped dramatically and pretend to slip off the edge, falling right into Juanita’s waiting arms. They shared a chaste kiss and the cats all cheered.

 

“Aww, that was so sweet!” Mabel sighed. 

 

“Okay, that was pretty impressive,” Dipper admitted, lightly clapping.

 

Juanita set her partner down and they looked out at the crowd after a modest bow.

 

“Thanks for stopping by,” Susan announced. “Remember, today’s special is pineapple upside down cake!”

 

“We injected batter straight into a pineapple,” Juanita added.

 

“See, that just leaves me with more questions,” Dipper commented. He turned to his sister who was reaching for a container of sugar. “Yeah, you really don’t need coffee.”

 

“But Dipper,” she whined. It was no use; Dipper grabbed her by the sleeve and drug her back out into the garden.

 

Their other grunkles were standing side-by-side, waiting on them. Both were smiling wide. The twins couldn’t quite put their fingers on it, but while these smiles matched the ones their original grunkles would give them something seemed off about them. 

 

They didn’t have time to ponder this as their other grunkle Stan asked, “You kids have fun?”

 

“It was amazing!” Mabel exclaimed, throwing her arms up for emphasis. 

 

She bounced over to the other grunkles and Dipper followed. Together the four walked back to the house, Mabel recounting the performance with Dipper occasionally chiming in. Other grunkle Ford put an arm on Dipper’s shoulder while other grunkle Stan ruffled Mabel’s hair. She giggled and held his hand.

 

“So,” other grunkle Ford wondered, “do you two enjoy it here?”

 

“Do we!” Mabel confirmed.

 

“There’s so much weird stuff,” Dipper agreed. “It’s amazing.”

 

“Hey, kids, that’s great,” other grunkle Stan said. “We were thinking you could stay here if you wanted. Forever.”

 

The twins looked at each other, sharing a frown.

 

“There’s only one little thing we’d have to do if you were to stay here with us,” other grunkle Ford told them.

 

They entered the kitchen and their other grunkles led them to the table. On it was an old china plate that held a spool of black thread with a  long silver needle going through it, and two pairs of large black buttons.

 

The twins squirmed away from the other grunkles. 

 

“No way are you sowing buttons over our eyes!”

 

“Yeah, that sounds like a bad idea,” Mabel agreed.

 

“That’s how deals work, kids. One thing in exchange for another,” other grunkle Stan said. “It won’t take long, trust me. Besides, it’s such a little thing for such a great opportunity.”

 

“It doesn’t hurt,” other grunkle Ford assured. 

 

Dipper shook his head and Mabel stubbornly crossed her arms. They knew that grownups were almost always wrong when they said something wouldn’t hurt.

 

Other grunkle Stan smiled, shifting his weight to his other foot and making his top hat bob. “Listen, kids, we just want what’s best for you. I thought you liked it here?”

 

He looked at them expectedly and they felt uncomfortable under his gaze. They turned to each other, communicating silently in their own way.

 

“We do like it here,” Mabel started.

 

“And we want to come back, but we’re we’re not letting you come anywhere near our eyes with a needle.”

 

“We can’t just leave our original grunkles, either. They’d be so sad if we left!”

 

Other grunkle Stan shrugged, moving the cane to his other hand. “Suit yourselves, kids.”

 

“We’ll see you when you return,” Other grunkle Ford said. “I hope we don’t have to wait long.”

 

“As soon as we can sneak away we’ll come back,” Dipper promised. 

 

Mabel gave them both a big hug before she and Dipper headed to the yellow door. They almost expected it to open to a brick wall, but instead it was the hallway between houses. It was like a sea of darkness. Mabel hesitated, and glanced back. Dipper followed her gaze.

 

The other grunkles were watching them. Other grunkle Stan waved and she returned it, albeit less enthusiastically.

 

Then she took Dipper’s had and they walked into the shadows. The sound of wind whipped through the dark corridor, though they never felt anything. There were strange whispers, too, words they couldn’t make out. Not that they particularly wanted to. It didn’t sound like a conversation meant for them, anyway.They both squeezed their eyes shut. 

 

Eventually the sounds stopped and, startled, their eyes shot open. They were in their own home again. Behind them the open doorway was once more blocked off.

 

They stared at in for a moment, neither sibling speaking. Then Dipper slowly closed the door and Mabel locked it.

 

They went into the front room to wait for their grunkles.


	6. Chapter 6

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The kids make some important decisions.

Mabel jumped up excitedly. She had drug a kitchen chair over to the window, on the lookout for their grunkles. The wait had seemed to drag on forever, but now they were finally walking up the steps back home. 

 

“They’re here, Dipper! I can’t wait to tell them all about the other house and the other grunkles!”

 

“Mabel, wait.” Dipper turned her so they were eye-to-eye. “I don’t think we should tell them.”

 

“You mean we should lie?”

 

“Well, think about it,” Dipper said, scratching the back of his head awkwardly. “Would you be thrilled if they visited an other Mabel and other Dipper?”

 

Mabel considered this for a moment. She sighed and said, “I guess not.”

 

Dipper frowned at the way her shoulders sagged. “Hey, cheer up. We’re finally having our own adventure, just like we always wanted!”

 

Mabel brightened at this. “You’re right, Dipdop!”

 

The door opened and their grunkles came in, arms full of groceries. When grunkle Ford asked them what they had been up to they kept the other world to themselves. 

 

That night they snuck through the door again.

 

Other grunkle Stan had been waiting where they’d first met him, baking up cookies for a midnight snack. Other grunkle Ford joined them, and afterwards took them to his office where the twins played with some of the bizarre things he had on the shelves. He had numerous old torture devices; Mabel almost fell into an iron maiden, and at another point Dipper nearly took off his own head with a heavy flail.

 

Mabel and Dipper returned home just a little bit before the sun came up, having lost track of time. For the next few nights they visited their other grunkles as soon as the coast was clear. They went to more of Susan and Juanita’s spectacular performances, ran into the other McGucket and his raccoons (though they never watched any of their performances, still unnerved by man and animals both), ran around in the various costumes bulging out of the closet, or sometimes hung out more with other grunkle Ford. Once Mabel even got him to come outside and pick flowers with her which she of course made into crowns for everyone.

 

Mostly though they explored. They never went too far; it seemed every time Dipper tried to step into the forest other grunkle Stan would appear out of nowhere and distract them with some new show or game.

 

This evening Dipper and Mabel were laying on the cool grass side by side, staring up at the stars. Like always it was a beautiful night since it never seemed to rain or even get cloudy. It was so peaceful, and Dipper knew he should feel a lot better than he did, but there was something weighing on his mind that he just couldn’t shake away.

 

Noticing his frown Mabel asked, “What’s the matter, bro bro?” 

 

“I’m just thinking about our grunkles.”

 

“Our _grunkles_ , or our other grunkles?”

 

“Our _grunkles_ ,” Dipper clarified. 

 

“Oh.”

 

Dipper glanced over at his twin. It was obvious to him that lying to them was eating away at her conscious.

 

“I was thinking about all the adventures they could have gone on, all the amazing things they could have seen instead of raising us,” Dipper finally admitted. Startled, Mabel turned to him. Before she could say anything Dipper sat up and continued, more adamant than before. “Think about it! They gave up everything for us!”

 

“They still go out on adventures sometimes.”

 

“It’s not the same, Mabel. Grunkle Ford basically halted his research into the supernatural. They got all these different jobs through the years just to support us. It just doesn’t seem fair to them.”

 

“Wait,” Mabel said, sitting up, too, “are you saying you want to stay? You want other grunkle Stan to sow buttons over your eyes?”

 

“I…I don’t know,” Dipper sighed, visibly deflating.

 

Mabel thought for a moment, brow furrowing. “We wouldn’t have to go to school.”

 

“What?”

 

“If we staid here.” Her eyes lit up excitedly. “Dipper! We could stay here and never have to deal with bullies anymore! It could just be me and you and our grunkles forever!”

 

“Our other grunkles,” Dipper corrected pointedly. Her face fell.

 

“Right.”

 

Mabel hugged her knees tight. Unable to stand seeing her so despondent Dipper slung an arm over her shoulders.

 

“Cheer up, Mabel. We couldn’t really leave our grunkles, I was just being stupid.”

 

“Yeah, they’d miss us too much. Besides, we can handle bullies as long as we have each other’s backs.”

 

They shared a resolute smile.

 

“Maybe we’ve been spending too much time here,” Dipper commented. “I say we go home and take a break from this place for a while.”

 

“I think we should lock the door behind us and never come back.”

 

“Let’s not be too hasty. I still want to figure this place out. This is still our very own adventure—we just need to take a breather.”

 

A wind blew in suddenly, making both twins shiver. 

 

“Hey, ya little meatbags,” came other grunkle Stan’s voice. “What’re you up to?”

 

The twins turned. Other grunkle Stan stood just a few feet away, almost looming as he stood there. It was strange, they hadn’t heard him approaching at all.

 

Dipper scrambled to his feet, Mabel following suit.

 

“We’ve gotta get home.”

 

“Yeah, we don’t want our grunkles to worry,” Mabel explained.

 

For a split second the man scowled. It was gone so quick, though, they wondered if it was just their imagination.

 

“I’m sure they will. Run along, and be sure to come back real soon, Pine Tree, Shooting Star!”

 

There was something disconcerting about his words, but neither could quite place their finger on it. They rushed out a goodbye and raced for the yellow door.

 

When they went through the corridor the usual whispers that they had grown accustomed to sounded angrier than they ever had, and the wind howled so loud their ears rung even on the other side.

 

Dipper hurriedly locked it and they tiptoed to grunkle Ford’s office. Thankfully he was in bed. They slipped the key back into his desk, and Mabel shut the drawer with finality.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> After this chapter is when the action really starts.


	7. Chapter 7

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The grunkles are missing, and the twins go looking for them.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Now the action's really getting started. This chapter has brief mentions of eating children, by the way.

Mabel opened her eyes and glanced over at her alarm clock. The cat was pointing both paws at the twelve. It was the latest Mabel had ever woken up, excluding a few times when she was sick. She was surprised her grunkles hadn’t come in to check on her.

 

Mabel slid her slippers on and peeked into the hallway. It was eerily quiet. She strained to hear anything, but her beating heart was the only sound.

 

She went into Dipper’s room. Her brother was face down sound asleep, drooling on his pillow. She urgently shook him awake.

 

“Dipper. _Dipper_!”

 

He jerked up and blearily looked around.

 

“What’s going on?”

 

“It’s noon and it’s quiet.”

 

Dipper furrowed his brow. “No one woke us up? Where’s Stan and Ford?”

 

“I don’t know, but something doesn’t feel right.”

 

Dipper got out of bed and together they searched the flat. They started with their grunkles’ rooms, but they were empty. Then they tried the gym, grunkle Ford’s office, the kitchen, everywhere. But their grunkles couldn’t be found. 

 

“Maybe they had to go somewhere,” Dipper tried unconvincingly.

 

So they looked around for a note.

 

Again there was nothing.

 

“Okay, let’s not freak out,” Dipper said, on the verge of freaking out. “I’m sure grunkle Stan and grunkle Ford are fine. Maybe they just had to go back up to the school for something and it’s taking longer than they thought it would.”

 

Mabel tried to smile reassuringly, though it didn’t quite reach her eyes. With a mixture of stubborn hopefulness and the need to keep them both calm, she suggested they fix an early dinner to surprise their grunkles when they got back.

 

They changed out of their pajamas, feeling much better afterwards, and started cooking. Thankfully the fridge and cabinets were fully stocked, and it was a unanimous vote for a breakfast dinner—eggs, bacon, sausage, and pancakes. 

 

By the time the food was ready and served, Mabel arranging it all into happy faces, their grunkles still hadn’t shown up. At first they tried to wait for them, but soon the hunger gnawed at their empty stomaches and they picked at their plates. 

 

It was starting to get dark. Mabel loaded the dishwasher while Dipper put their grunkles’ soggy and cold dinner into the fridge. Then they sat close together on the couch, some cartoon playing low on the tv. They didn’t really watch it, keeping an ear out for any signs of their grunkles coming home.

 

Even though they struggled to stay awake as long as they could, eventually their eyes drooped and they fell into fitful sleep. 

 

Mabel woke up first, part of her convinced yesterday had been a dream and grunkle Stan was in the kitchen frying up a greasy breakfast grunkle Ford would complain had no nutritional value but still eat anyway. Unfortunately when she opened her eyes she and Dipper were still on the couch and no one had even tossed a blanket over them. 

 

Their grunkles were still gone.

 

She disappeared into her sweater, meowing to herself until she felt Dipper’s arms around her. He cajoled Mabel to come out of Sweater Town and led her into the kitchen.

 

Instead of a warm family breakfast they climbed onto the counter and had an apple each. Mabel downed a few glasses of her special juice, and even Dipper decided to have a cup. If pastel colors could be tasted he was sure it would be identical to Mabel Juice; still he drunk it down without complaint.

 

They milled around the house for a little while, their hope slowly fading. They checked all the rooms again. Still no signs of their grunkles.

 

After warming up some leftover spaghetti for lunch the twins tried to figure out what to do. Surely if their grunkles had been in an accident someone would have notified them. 

 

“Unless they’re lying in a ditch somewhere undiscovered,” Dipper suggested frantically, pulling at his own hair. 

 

“No,” Mabel told him firmly. “They’re okay—they have to be.”

 

The unspoken _or else_ hung heavy between them. 

 

Dipper broke the silence first. “Where could they be?” His eyes shot open wide. “Mabel!”

 

“Dipper?”

 

“The other grunkles!”

 

“The other…?” Mabel gasped. “Do you think they did something to our grunkles?”

 

“They wanted us to stay so bad, but we came back to our Stan and Ford.”

 

There was a thunderous bang on the front door, startling the twins. They listened as the knocking became more and more insistent. Wordlessly they approached the door.

 

“Who’s there?” Dipper demanded.

 

Mabel’s eyes twinkled at the squeal they got in response. She flung open the door exclaiming, “Waddles!”

 

The pig leapt into her open arms, and they both went tumbling to the ground in a cacophony of giggles and snorts. 

 

“Huh, I almost forgot about you,” Dipper admitted, shutting the door.

 

Mabel sat up and gazed into his eyes. “I looked for you in the other world, Waddles. Where were you?”

 

Waddles said nothing, just pressed his wet snout against mabel’s cheek. It tickled.

 

“Do you know where our grunkles are? Our original ones. They went missing.”

 

Waddles stared at her, head cocking to the side. He still didn’t speak.

 

“Maybe he can only speak in the other world,” Dipper guessed.

 

Mabel frowned. “But you can still understand us, right? Waddles, do you know anything? Please.”

 

Waddles snorted again, wiggling out of her lap and going into the hall. The twins quickly followed him down the corridor, right to the very end where a a full-length mirror hung. It was something that had been there when they moved in and their grunkles had decided to just leave it.

 

Dipper switched on the hallway light. The twins gasped.

 

Instead of their reflections, it was their grunkles. Well, more like golden statues of their grunkles. Perfect renditions, in fact, right down to the similar looks of surprise on their faces. 

 

“Grunkle Stan!” Dipper yelled just as Mabel cried, “Grunkle Ford!”

 

The statues remained motionless.

 

“You were right, Dipper. The other grunkles got them.”

 

“And we’re going to get them back.”

 

They shared a resolute nod and set into motion, Waddles following closely. First they grabbed their backpacks and emptied them. Before meeting back up with Dipper, Mabel spotted the stone with a hole Susan had given them and tucked it into the special pocket she sowed into all her sweaters.

 

In their home there was a single room that was off limits without supervision. It’s where their grunkles stored all their dangerous gear and weapons for their adventures. Right now, weapons were going to be a necessity. 

 

Grunkle Ford had installed a keypad, unaware that Dipper knew the passcode. He punched it in, and the door unlocked. They stepped inside, eyes passing over all the high tech and perilous items. As much as they’d like to, the twins knew there was no time to stay and marvel so they quickly scoured the room for anything that might help them.

 

Mabel caught something out of the corner of her eye: two brightly wrapped packages with their names on either one. Obviously presents for their upcoming birthday.

 

“Dipper, look.”

 

He and Waddles came over. The twins each grabbed the one with their name on it and together they open the gifts.

 

“A grappling hook!”

 

“These brass knuckles are just like grunkle Stan’s!”

 

The twins flashed each other a grin, silently agreeing that these would do the trick. 

 

They did make a quick stop at the gym to pick up their boxing gloves. It was more for comfort then the thought they might actually need them, especially in lieu of their new accessories.

 

Dipper’s flashlight was low on batteries, and they couldn’t find any others throughout the flat. Presumably they hadn’t been unpacked yet. They went to grunkle Ford’s office and found an old styled lantern. It was next to a box of extra candles which they took, as well, along with a box of matches.

 

They grabbed the key on their way out. It was right where they’d left it, and cold to the touch.

 

Before they went into the room with the yellow door Mabel snagged a few apples from the kitchen and the rest of her Mabel Juice. Never knew when they’d need an energy boost!

 

With a deep breath Dipper inserted the key into the lock, but didn’t turn it. He glanced over at Mabel standing by his side. Waddles was on her right, watching them expectedly.

 

“We won’t lose them,” he promised, soft but sure. “Not like mom and dad.”

 

“We never knew them,” Mabel said suddenly, and Waddles looked up at her. “We’ve only ever had grunkle Stan and grunkle Ford taking care of us.”

 

“They didn’t let us grow up without a family. They could have just abandoned us while they traveled the world having amazing adventures—but they didn’t. And we won’t abandon them to some cheap grunkle knock-offs, either.”

 

Dipper turned the key, and there was a familiar _clunk_. The door swung open.

 

Of course the brick wall was gone; the other grunkles were waiting for them, after all. There was a foreboding darkness, however, and Dipper lit the lantern. 

 

“Grunkle Stan and grunkle Ford are the best grunkles in the world,” Mabel declared.

 

She took her brother’s hand and they walked into the darkness. They were instantly assaulted with the stench of must and something frighteningly similar to decay.

 

They pressed on through the corridor, ignoring the long, flickering shadows cast by their lantern. There was something scurrying around; whether it was behind or beside or above or ahead of them they couldn’t tell. Whatever it was, it matched their pace.

 

“You know,” Waddles spoke up, “it’ll be dangerous. You could lose your lives. The safest thing to do would be to turn back now before it’s too late and lock the door.”

 

“And leave our grunkles? No way!” 

 

“You don’t just leave family,” Mabel told him. “Especially not when all they’ve ever done is kept you safe.”

 

“I wouldn’t know,” the pig replied evenly.

 

“Don’t you have a family of your own?”

 

“No.”

 

“Well know you do,” Mabel decided. “When this is all over I’m sure our grunkles will let us keep the pig that helped save them.”

 

“Hate to break this up, but does this place seem way longer to anyone else?”

 

No sooner had the words left his mouth then the candle went out, as if suddenly and purposefully snuffed. The twins stopped, both swallowing a yelp. They could hear whatever was with them scrambling about.

 

Just ahead was a blue glow. They shielded their eyes from the blinding brightness, blinking rapidly to clear their vision. There were two silhouettes in the doorway. 

 

“Kids?”

 

“Grunkle Stan! Grunkle Ford!” the twins hollered, running forward. 

 

“I knew you little meatbags would be back.”

 

Too close to stop, the kids were enveloped by the other grunkle Stan. They stood rigid in his arms as he pressed them to his chest, filling their nostrils with the scent of sulfur. 

 

“Where are our grunkles?” Dipper asked.

 

“Yeah! We want our real grunkles!”

 

“What’s the matter, kids, cant’ you see? We’re right here.” There was a chilling inflection in his voice.

 

The twins pushed away from him, and the other grunkle Stan let them go. They eyed him and other grunkle Ford warily. The latter smiled at them, but there was a hint of something to it they couldn’t place. It didn’t seem malicious, but rather sad, or maybe desperate.

 

“How about a snack, children? I know just the thing to warm you up on such a cold night. Hot chocolate.”

 

They followed him out of the room, only to pause and glance into the mirror at the end of the hall. Mabel and Dipper only saw themselves—two tired not-yet-teens who looked small and lost in the large house. But at least their eyes were theirs and not buttons, and they had their gear.

 

And each other.

 

“We don’t want a snack,” Dipper said, turning to the waiting other grunkles. 

 

“We brought our own,” Mabel added, taking out the apples and handing one to her brother. 

 

The other grunkles looked disappointed as the twins bit into them with fake relish. Then other Stan shrugged, the hall light bouncing off his yellow eye and making it gleam.

 

“Suit yourselves. You’ll get hungry again sooner or later.”

 

“We’re not afraid of you,” Dipper snarled. 

 

“Give us back our grunkles. Now.”

 

“Yeesh, kids, what would I want with them? If your old grunkles are missing it’s probably because they finally left you so they could go back to having grand adventures. Can’t sail the seven seas with little niblings running around on deck, you know. Trust me, you’re better off here.”

 

“We don’t trust you,” Mabel snapped. “You stole our grunkles away!”

 

Other grunkle Stan rolled his eye and came over. The twins recoiled from him, but other Stan simply ran a hand over the mirror. It fogged up, and when it cleared they saw their grunkles looking like the sailors they had been before Mabel and Dipper had been born. They were walking through the front door, exuberant grins on their faces. 

 

“That was exhilarating!” grunkle Ford gushed.

 

“Got that right, Sixer. It’s nice to finally get back to adventuring now that we don’t have to worry about those brats.”

 

“Indeed. And they’ll be much better off with their other grunkles. Truly a situation where everyone wins!”

 

Again the mirror fogged up, and when it faded all that was left was the hallway and other Stan’s smirk.

 

“That’s just a trick,” Mabel said, stomping her foot.

 

“They would never abandon us,” Dipper agreed.

 

“You two really want to be difficult tonight, huh?” Other Stan clapped his hands and a raccoon scurried out of the shadows towards him. “Go get me the key.”

 

The raccoon ran into the room with the yellow door and into the dark corridor. Soon it returned, the old black key in its mouth. It handed the cold metal to Other Stan.

 

“Why do you need our key?” Dipper wondered.

 

“One door, one key,” other Ford explained.

 

“Silence!” other Stan ordered. Then, much calmer, continued, “Don’t bother the kids with useless details, Fordsy.”

 

He stuck the key into the lock and turned it. A harsh _clunk_ echoed through the room. Other Stan tucked the key away into his jacket.

 

“Well, time for bed, Shooting Star, Pine Tree.”

 

He went back over to the other Ford, walking past him to the bedrooms. When other Ford didn’t immediately follow he grabbed him by the shoulder and led him away.

 

Dipper tried the door but of course it wouldn't budge. In frustration he lashed out, punching the yellow wood. All that accomplished was making him cry out in pain.

 

“Where do you think Waddles is?” Mabel asked, looking around for the pig. He was nowhere to be seen.

 

“I don’t know, but we don’t have time to find him, too.”

 

Truthfully the twins were tired, but while sleep itself sounded wonderful they certainly wouldn’t be doing it here. Not under the same roof as the other grunkles.

 

They peeked throughout the house, careful to be as quiet as they could, but there was no sign of their missing grunkles. Figuring they’d have to take their search elsewhere they tried the front door; to their surprise it was unlocked.

 

Mabel and Dipper sat on the cold porch steps, contemplating their next move. Something wet pressed itself to the back of Dipper’s neck and he jumped. 

 

“Waddles!” Mabel threw her arms around the pig. “Where did you go? We were so worried about you.”

 

“Speak for yourself,” Dipper grumbled, rubbing where Waddles had pressed his snout.

 

“It’s a game we play,” Waddles replied. “He does not like me and I do not like him. So I hide while he seeks.”

 

“‘He’?” Dipper repeated. “You mean the other Stan?”

 

Waddles nodded.

 

“Why does he want us?” Mabel wondered. 

 

“Food, I assume.”

 

The twins blanched.

 

“You mean he wants to eat us!”

 

“Well, your energy, at least. It’s what gives him his power.” Waddles paused, head cocking to the side. “Or maybe your flesh and bones, too. It’s hard to tell with creatures like that.”

 

“What do we do, Dipper?” Mabel asked, looking between the pig and her brother.

 

“You’ll have to make a deal,” Waddles replied simply.

 

“What kind of deal?”

 

“A challenging one. His kind loves games, he won’t be able to resist.”

 

“What is his kind?” Dipper asked. 

 

Waddles said nothing, trotting down the steps on his stubby legs. After stepping off the last one he turned back and advised, “You should rest up, get some sleep. Tomorrow will be a new, long day.”

 

Then he disappeared into the night.

 

The twins knew he was right, and went back inside. Again they crept through the silent house, past where their other grunkles had gone (who knew what they were doing—sleeping, waiting? Watching?) and into their faux bedroom. They pushed the toy box full of sleeping toys in front of the door. While it would do no good to keep anyone out, it would at least alert them of someone entering. 

 

Some of the toys stirred, and one of the pink dancers tried to crawl out. Mabel stomped her back down and the toy chattered angrily, clutching her horn. Dipper slammed the lid down. 

 

Cautiously they checked around the room for raccoons: under the beds, in the closet, behind the curtains. Satisfied they were alone they laid their bags down within reach, kicked off their socks and shoes, and climbed into the same bed. Both were asleep within moments, barely having any time to muse on the deal they would have to make.

 


	8. Chapter 8

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The kids start the search for their grunkles, though things don't go what you might call smoothly. Warnings this chapter for allusions to abuse, specifically choking.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The search begins in earnest!

Mabel became aware of a weight on her legs and realized, judging by the familiar snores next to her, that Dipper had thrown his own over her during the night. She couldn’t remember why they had crawled into the same bed; one of them must have had a nightmare and didn’t want to wake their grunkles.

 

That thought made her eyes shoot open into a room that was not theirs. The walls were a deep red that seemed oppressive even in the morning light. Fake morning. Nothing was real here.

 

Mabel pushed Dipper’s leg off of her and shook him awake. He bolted straight up, hands flying into a defensive boxing position. He looked around in confusion until his eyes settled on Mabel.

 

“Morning, Dipdop.”

 

She gave him the best smile she could muster. He returned it, equally as strained.

 

“Morning, Mabes.”

 

Dipper’s stomach rumbled, and Mabel’s joined in. She grabbed her backpack and took out their last two apples, and the Mabel Juice. 

 

“Good thing we came prepared.”

 

Dipper winced at the glitter liquid, but drunk some regardless. It did serve it’s purpose, and he felt much more awake and ready to face the other Stan.

 

They got up and grabbed their things, ignoring the rumbling toys when they hauled the chest way from the door. Their first stop was the kitchen, but it was empty. Knowing they couldn’t have been left alone they tried grunkle Ford’s study.

 

The other Ford was there, sitting at the desk. He wasn’t doing anything except sitting and staring straight ahead. 

 

“Where’s other Stan?” Dipper asked, eying him cautiously.

 

Other Ford seemed delighted at the company. He smiled softly at the wall, not turning to the children.

 

“He’s out taking care of a vermin problem.”

 

“The raccoons?” Mabel guessed.

 

“Oh, no, children, the raccoons are his friends. He’s chasing after that pig.”

 

“You mean Waddles,” Mabel said with a frown. “Waddles is our friend and other Stan better not hurt him!”

 

“He tries and tries, but hasn’t been able to catch him yet. What’s that old saying about the greased pig?” Other Ford laughed humorlessly to himself. “Truthfully I shouldn’t be talking to you when he’s not around. Ah, but no worries, children. He’s hardly ever gone.”

 

“So what do we do then?” Dipper asked, quickly growing irritated.

 

Other Ford held a finger to his lips, finally turning to the twins. His jacket collar fell away and Mabel gasped. Around his neck was a large band of reddened skin, as though something large had been choking him. She ran over and climbed into his lap so she could run her fingers over the discolored area. Up close it seemed singed in parts.

 

“You poor thing. What happened?”

 

He seemed taken aback by her genuine concern. Then his face softened. He picked Mabel up and placed her gently on her feet, and patted the top of her head fondly.

 

“Go with your brother.”

 

Mabel hesitated a moment, torn. Ultimately she went back to Dipper’s side. He put a hand on her shoulder.

 

“Let’s go explore.”

 

“No point, dear boy,” other Ford told him. “This is all there is. This is all he made.”

 

Then he fell silent again. It almost seemed like he wanted to say more but couldn’t. 

 

Dipper took his sister’s hand and together they left the study. They tried the yellow door again, unsurprised as all it did was rattle on its hinges.

 

They sat down on the lounge chair a moment to rest and consider their plan of action. Not many good ideas were forthcoming, really, and they fell silent as they thought. Eventually they gazed around the room as though hoping something would spark a genius notion.

 

It was all so familiar. Same chair, same yellow door, same curtains, same fireplace. The only differences they could spot were that this room didn’t have the unpacked boxes their grunkles still hadn’t gotten around to, and this fireplace had a glass ball on the mantle.

 

Mabel turned herself around so she was upside-down and gazed hard at the snow globe like thing. Dipper noticed and followed her gaze.

 

He went over and picked it up. Inside was a little floating galaxy. It flowed into different shapes, reminding Dipper of a lava lamp. Two golden specks shimmered in the dazzling blackness.

 

“Weird,” Dipper said, shaking it.

 

“Pretty,” Mabel said, peering over his shoulder.

 

Dipper put it back and they left the room, going outside. They ignored the neon signs pointing to the Greasy Diner, even as their stomaches reminded them of how little they’d eaten the past few days. Instead they headed to the garden. 

 

They went to the edge, where everything was overgrown, and ventured into the forest. The further they went the less the trees looked like, well, trees. They became more like scribbles or outlines of what trees generally look like: brownish trunks with splashes of green on top for leaves. 

 

“This is definitely not normal,” Dipper commented.

 

A fog rolled in. It wasn’t damp, it didn’t leave them cold or warm, It didn’t feel like it even existed, and for a moment they wondered if it wasn’t just a trick of the eyes.

 

But it started to thicken as they went on, and the twins couldn’t deny that it was real. 

 

“Good thing we’re expert explorers,” Mabel mused, stepping closer to her brother so they wouldn’t lose each other in the mist.

 

Soon the fog encompassed everything, and the whole world was white. The twins walked forward without running into anything, because nothing was there. They were there, and they could see each other just fine, but everything else was like a blank sheet of paper. No ground beneath their feet, no sky above. Just a stark whiteness.

 

“What are you two doing?”

 

The twins looked around for who had spoken. There was a blob of color coming their way, though it was hard to gouge distance in such a strange landscape. Finally, though, it came close enough for them to see.

 

“Waddles, you're okay!” Mabel got down on her knees and hugged him tight.

 

“We’re exploring,” Dipper answered.

 

Waddles looked quite unhappy, even as Mabel embraced him. His tail was twitching like a cat’s and he seemed tense.

 

“What’s wrong?” Mabel wondered, letting go of him.

 

“This is a bad place,” the pig answered, snout low as he gazed around. “Nothing to see here, either.”

 

Waddles started to walk off and the twins followed. 

 

“Where is here?” Dipper asked.

 

“ _Here_ is outside the boundaries of what he decided to make.”

 

“Uh, come again?”

 

“The one who calls himself your other grunkle Stan. He only bothered to make so much. Maybe from a lack of energy, maybe he just didn’t care.”

 

“Yeah, that doesn’t answer a whole lot, you know.”

 

“I think I have more questions now,” Mabel agreed.

 

There was no chance to inquire further, however, as a shape appeared in the distance. It towered over the trio, awfully dark against the vast whiteness. 

 

“Hey, you were wrong, there is something out here!”

 

As they neared the shape it became a solid, recognizable form. A house that almost seemed to watch them even in the bright nothingness.

 

“Um, isn’t that where we just came from?”

 

“But that’s impossible, unless we got turned around.”

 

“That is the same house,” Waddles confirmed, “and we did not get turned around.”

 

“But, but—“ Dipper sputtered.

 

“Think of it as walking around the world. You walk a straight line far enough, and end up right back where you started.”

 

“Small world,” Mabel murmured. 

 

“Big enough for him, as long as the flies fit in the trap.”

 

The twins shivered.

 

The rest of the world began to form around them. Proper trees with triangular knotholes, the flowers in the garden, the well. Even a full moon hung high, four darker spots on it reminding them of a white button.

 

A shadow darted out from the side, and Waddles charged. He collided with something that made a high pitched scream.

 

Waddles brought the creature back to them and they saw it was a raccoon. It flailed in his mouth, unable to get away. Waddles bit down and the children cringed at the crunch. They expected to see blood, but oddly enough the raccoon itself morphed into a black tendril before fading away.

 

“What was that?” Dipper practically shrieked.

 

“One of his watchers about to sound the alarm,” the pig calmly divulged.

 

Before Dipper could interrogate him further, Waddles walked off into the forest. The twins shared an uneasy look. Mabel shrugged, an action her brother repeated, and together they walked up to the imposing house.

 

It was still unnervingly quiet. Their footfalls seemed more like hammers smashing against wood. 

 

They walked down the hall. Their reflections in the mirror at the end appeared unexpectedly brave, in turn strengthening their resolve. 

 

They were alone in the mirror, and then their was a hand on both of them.

 

Mabel and Dipper looked up. Other Stan looked down, yellow eye twinkling. His mouth was in a face-splitting grin.

 

“Pine Tree, Shooting Star! Have a nice walk? Let’s play a game. Any you want.”

 

Brow furrowing Dipper pointed out, “You don’t show up in the mirror.”

 

“Are you a vampire?” Mabel asked.

 

Other Stan glanced over at the mirror, grin never faltering. The kids followed his gaze.

 

“What d’ya know? There I am!”

 

Indeed he did have a reflection now.

 

“So, what game do you little meatbags want to play?”

 

Dipper slapped his hand away and snarled, “We don’t want to play anything with you!”

 

“We want our real grunkles. Let them go!”

 

Other Stan sighed in an over exaggerated manner and lamented, “Ah, kids these days. So ungrateful.”

 

“Enough games!” Dipper hollered. “I will fight you!”

 

“Tsk, tsk, tsk,” Other Stan slowly chided, reaching into his jacket. “You know, I think you kids are just too wound up. You need a chance to cool off, come to your senses.”

 

He produced a key. Not the old black one to the yellow door, but a tinier silver key. 

 

“This is for your own good.”

 

Other Stan reached past them and pushed the end of the key into the mirror as though it were water not glass. He twisted the key and it opened up like a door to a small, dark space.

 

The kids had no time to react before he shoved them both in. They looked back in time to see him swing the door shut once more, leaving them in darkness.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I feel bad for Stanford. Even the other Ford suffers. No version of him can catch a break.


	9. Chapter 9

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The twins find they're not alone in the prison other Stan left them in.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> We finally reach the ghost children! ( I hope it’s obvious who’s who.) This is also the shortest chapter, but the next makes up for it.

It was a cupboard more than a room, and the twins were pressed together uncomfortably. They could stand upright, but couldn’t move far enough away from each other so they wouldn’t touch. Sitting was even more cramped. 

 

“What do we do, Dipper?”

 

Good question. He did not have a good answer.

 

“It’ll be fine, Mabel. He won’t keep us in here forever. Not if he wants to sow buttons into our eyes.”

 

Dipper started feeling around for any sort of switch or knob, and his sister joined him. Their fingers brushed nothing but stone or floor or the glass they’d fallen through, however. No secret exit was to be found.

 

They had kicked up a lot of dust, though. Centuries of it, they estimated as it filled their nostrils and made them both sneeze.

 

“You sneeze like kittens,” an unfamiliar voice giggled.

 

The twins instantly screamed.

 

“Hush now, please! You’ll alert the bedlam.”

 

The twins quieted down. Before they could ask who was there another voice spoke up.

 

“Are you alive?” They nodded. “Weird, he’s never taken two at once before.”

 

Something cold brushed first Dipper’s face then Mabel’s. A third new voice commented, “It has been so long since we had company.”

 

Their eyes were beginning to adjust to the darkness, and they could make out three distinct figures. None of them were that tall, and they knew they had to be children like them. Each one was very pale, too, like slices of the moon.

 

“What happened to you?” Dipper wondered.

 

“Are you dead?”

 

There was a chorus of confirmations.

 

"We fell for that creature’s lies,” the first spirit spat, the large poof of hair on top of his head bobbing angrily.

 

“He took what he wanted then left us here,” the second ghost added bitterly. 

 

The final ghost adjusted her round glasses. “He pretended to love us and promised us a better life. But then he took our eyes and let us rot in the darkness.”

 

“You poor things,” Mabel softly said. “What are your names?”

 

“Who knows,” the second spirit replied.

 

“Names are the first to go.”

 

“We remember what we left behind,” the one with glasses started.

 

“And why we let him give us buttons for our eyes,” the second spirit continued, her face looking so small and far away that the twins assumed she must be recalling something painful. “But we can’t even remember our own names.”

 

“That’s awful,” Mabel gasped, sounding close to tears. Dipper reached out and took her hand, squeezing it.

 

“Flee!” the third spirit urged. 

 

“Yes! Go while you still have a beating heart and warm flesh! He’ll take your souls!”

 

“We can’t. He has our grunkles.”

 

“And we’re going to find them and free them!” Mabel declared profusely. 

 

“You really think you can defeat the bedlam?” the first ghost scoffed.

 

The second flipped her hair. “Haven’t you seen how powerful he is yet?”

 

Dipper took a small step forward, declaring, “We will stop him!”

 

“We _have_ to.”

 

There was silence for a moment while the spirits considered this, a look passing between the three. It was the second one who broke the quiet.

 

“Well, if you’re going through all that trouble already you should find our souls and free us, then.”

 

“If you could we would be very appreciative,” the third ghost said much more politely.

 

Without hesitation Mabel accepted. “Of course we will. Then you’ll be free, right?”

 

The trio confirmed this gleefully. 

 

“If we don’t,” Dipper ventured curiously, “and he wins, what’ll happen to us?”

 

The wisps seemed much less exuberant now. The twins shared a glance, not taking that as a good sign.

 

“It doesn’t hurt too much,” the first spirit eventually whispered. There was a tilt to his voice like he didn’t quite believe himself.

 

“He will take your love and joy,” the third explained, “and leave you with nothing but mist.”

 

The middle spirit looked the twins in the eye for the very first time. “One day you’ll wake up and all you’ll be is a husk. Like some figment waiting to fade. Hollow.”

 

“Hollow,” the third echoed. “Hollow, hollow, hollow.”

 

“Well, then I guess we can’t let him win,” Dipper said.

 

Mabel grinned and agreed, “No way! We’ll save our grunkles and your souls.”

 

“Do you know how to get out of here?” They did not. “Okay, then we’ll wait. He’ll be back for us.”

 

“And we’ll be ready.”

 

“How can you be sure?”

 

“He likes a good challenge,” Dipper pointed out. “If he wants to make a deal, we’ll give him a deal.”

 

Using their backpacks as pillows they tried to get as comfortable as possible in the little space afforded. They twisted around each other’s limbs, finally settling for a half-contorted, somewhat comfortable-if they-tried-not-to-breath-deeply positions, tangled together. 

 

Mabel’s stomach rumbled, and Dipper’s followed. Their mouths were dry, too. But there was nothing left to eat, and just a bit of Mabel Juice left. They decided to save it for later, when they would really need the extra boost, and try to sleep off the hunger. 

 

Both were so exhausted they drifted off with surprising ease. Before the world was lost to them, they swore a faint voice advised, “Use the stone.”

 

Then they slept.

 


	10. Chapter 10

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The kids make a deal, and make some progress. Even if things are a little chaotic.

Other Stan’s one eye glowed. It gave off an impressive amount of light, too—yellow, of course. How had they not noticed before? Perhaps it was just that they were in such an absolute darkness that it really popped out.

 

He was leaning into the little cupboard, upper torso dangling above the twins. They glared up as he gazed down. There was a wide, predatory smile taking up most of his face.

 

“So, kids, done being so difficult yet?”

 

“We want to make a deal,” Dipper told him through gritted teeth.

 

Though it seemed impossible his grin widened.

 

Other Stan grabbed them by the back of their tops and pulled them out of the tiny room. Their limbs were overjoyed to finally be able to stretch out. Even if they were yanked unceremoniously and deposited carelessly in the hallway where they very nearly toppled onto the hardwood floor. 

 

“What do you have in mind, Pine Tree? Shooting Star?”

 

“We want to play a game,” Mabel answered.

 

“If we win you let us and our grunkles go.”

 

“And the ghost kids.”

 

“Interesting. And if you lose?” The word rolled off his tongue like it was the name of a delicacy.

 

“Then we’ll stay here with you.”

 

“And let you sow buttons into our eyes.”

 

They had never seen the Other Stan look so delighted. He looked like he already considered himself the winner.

 

“What game do you two little meatbags want to play? Something with riddles? Charades?”

 

“Hide-and-seek,” Mabel replied.

 

“You hid our grunkles and those ghost kids’ eyes, and now we’ll find them.”

 

There was no hesitation as Other Stan declared, “It’s a deal.”

 

He held out his hand. The twins glanced at each other then back at the waiting appendage. Both took it, and suddenly blue flames engulfed all three. It shot up their arms. Yet, while the heat was intense, it did not burn their skin.

 

Other Stan cackled as the flames sizzled out. He took his hand back and walked down the hall.

 

“Have fun!” he called out with a backwards wave. “Oh, and breakfast’s on the table.”

 

Thankfully he did not turn into the kitchen and the twins went in there. On the table they found two plates piled high with bacon, eggs, a stack of pancakes each, and between them two glasses and a pitcher of apple juice.

 

They sat down and ate quickly, keeping an eye out for the Other Stan. They remained alone, however. 

 

When their plates were clean they leaned back in the chairs, both sure they could eat more. There was no time, however, and they didn’t want to consume more of his cooking than absolutely necessary. It felt like a betrayal to their grunkles.

 

“Where should we look first?” Mabel wondered.

 

“Good question. I have no idea. I don’t even know how big souls are.”

 

“Since he took their eyes, maybe they’re small.”

 

“Maybe.” Dipper pushed himself up from the table. “Well, we better get started. They’ve got to be in the house, since everything else is fake. At least that narrows it down.”

 

They poked around the kitchen, opening drawers and checking under the sink. But their grunkles and the souls weren’t there, or in the oven, or the fridge. Mabel even tried the three crispers. All that was there were jars labeled _Dear Teeth_.

 

Was that a pun or misspelling? Best not to know.

 

“How’s the search going?”

 

Dipper reeled around. Other Stan was leaning in the doorway, both hands on his cane top. He appeared very unconcerned.

 

“Unless you feel like giving us a clue, stop bugging us!” he snapped.

 

“Whoa, Pine Tree, when you lose and I get your eyes we really need to have a family discussion about your and Shooting Star’s attitudes.”

 

“Stop calling us that!” Mabel demanded.

 

Other Stan’s grin didn’t falter as he slunk around the corner out of sight. The twins raced to the doorway to see where he was going, but when they looked there was no sign of him.

 

“Man, I can’t believe we ever trusted that guy.”

 

Mabel patted her brother’s shoulder reassuringly. Then suddenly the ghosts’ final whisper rang through her mind: the stone!

 

She reached into her pocket, feeling the smooth hole in the middle. Wearing it like a ring she held it up for Dipper to see.

 

“Don’t worry, bro bro—we have our secret weapon.”

 

Dipper grinned, but it was quickly replaced with puzzlement. “How do you think it works?”

 

Mabel shrugged unhelpfully. 

 

“It’s better than nothing.”

 

Dipper sighed and agreed. As he tried to decide where they should take their search Mabel held the stone up to her eye like she had done a lifetime ago when they had first gotten it,

 

To her surprise, the world turned gray. 

 

She quickly dropped her hand and everything was in color again. She replaced the stone. Again it was all gray. She did this several more times in rapid succession. Color, gray, color, gray, color—

 

“Mabel!”

 

She paused mid transition and smiled at her brother.

 

“Look!” she exclaimed, shoving it against his eye.

 

Dipper let out a groan of pain as the stone jabbed him in the eye. He backed up and shot Mabel a glare. It quickly died, however, as he gazed through the hole.

 

“Whoa.”

 

They continued searching through the rest of the house, Mabel gazing through the stone. They walked down the hallway to their shared room, figuring it was best to try the safer options first.

 

The toys buzzed around excitedly. The teeth with limbs chattered ceaselessly, the little dancers climbed out and started their graceful routines. One of the stuffed dolls, the one with a pacifier stuck in its stomach, stomped around on a shelf demanding attention.

 

A four sided diamond shaped toy came up to Dipper and reached out towards his shoe. He nudged it away, and the toy stumbled back, getting tangled into the cape of a dancer. She smacked the diamond violently. It cowered on the ground until she seemed to grow some pity for the creature and went back to her pirouettes.

 

Mabel and Dipper stepped around the toys, former gazing through the stone. There was nothing out in the open, however, so Dipper went around the room. He tossed open the closet door, upturned the pirate chest, and tossed anything else he could find on the floor. Many of the toys took cover under the beds, hiding from Dipper’s destruction. 

 

The room was in shambles. Mabel shifted through it all with the stone, careful to peer at every inch. After a while their faces began to fall as they found nothing.

 

Then, just as they were about to move on, something glinted in the grayness.

 

It was blue, whatever it was, blue as the clearest summer sky with specks of white swirling around. 

 

“Dipper, there!”

 

He followed her pointing finger to a small, plain marble that had rolled to the far side of the room. Without question he reached for it. Something darted out of a shadow and lunged at his hand before he could grab it, however. It was one of the dentures with legs and it latched on with its teeth to Dipper’s fingers.

 

Dipper shouted in pain, trying to shake the toy off. It held on steadfast, however.

 

“Hold on, Dipdop!” 

 

Mabel took off her shoe and smacked the walking dentures until it finally let go, chattering wildly as it ran to safety. 

 

There was no time to celebrate, or even to grab their prize. The rest of the toys had encircled the twins. Some of the eight-ball eyed goblins were climbing up their legs while the eyebats flew around them, occasionally swooping in to swipe at their faces. A few dancers even chucked the little blue diamond creatures at them.

 

They kept batting and kicking at the toys, but more and more kept swarming. Anytime they made for the marble several would jump at their hand, slicing or latching on. Mabel and Dipper were doing all they could just to keep from getting seriously injured.

 

“Ow!” Mabel yelled, yanking her hair out of a dancer’s tiny hands. 

 

“This isn’t working. We need something to block their attacks.” As if a bulb suddenly went off in his head Dipper exclaimed, “Our gloves!”

 

“Huh?”

 

“Mabel, put on your boxing gloves,” he instructed, already rummaging in his bag.

 

“Great idea, bro bro!”

 

Donning their gloves made the pair feel that much stronger. They punched at the attacking toys, the gloves protecting their hands. The toys moved onto their legs, but with the new cushioning they easily hit the things off of them. Soon they beat the skittering playthings back.

 

As soon as their was an opening Dipper lunged for the marble. An eyebat went straight for his face but he landed a hit square to the creature’s pupil. It quickly lost its balance and spiraled to the ground where it flapped its wings frantically, trying to rise but unable.

 

Removing a glove Dipper snatched the marble up and examined it. The marble was completely unremarkable, like something out of a cheap quarter machine, and rather dull.

 

“Huh. Not what I expected.”

 

The toys all scattered, and his sister came over. Mabel switched him, handing Dipper the stone while she took the marble. He held it up to his eye and saw the beautiful colors she had.

 

A whisper flickered in their minds, a southern voice they’d heard before. “You did it! Thank you so much. Now go find the others, and be quick about it! The bedlam ain’t pleased you’ve recovered me.”

 

“No worries, ghost boy, we’ve got this,” Mabel assured, tucking the marble safely into her secret sweater pocket.

 

“This is going to be easier than we thought,” Dipper agreed, wiping sweat and a small bit of blood off his brow.

 

They walked out into the hall and were met with a ferocious wind. It whipped around them, throwing some invisible debris that stung where it connected. Dipper and Mabel shielded their faces as best they could, waiting for it to die down. It didn’t.

 

“Play fair!” Mabel chided.

 

The wind stopped abruptly, leaving a deafening silence. Sure it wouldn’t start back up the twins lowered their arms and looked around. No one was there.

 

Dipper suggested they try the diner so the twins headed towards the front door. As they passed the kitchen they heard a tap-tap-tap, like fingers strumming against the counter or maybe Other Stan’s cane softly striking the floor. They didn’t poke their heads in to check.

 

Fog hung around the outskirts of the property. The bulbs of the neon arrow flickered randomly, and they were never all lit up at once. Just as one would come back on two more would darken. 

 

The twins went up to the front door. Mabel tried peeking in the windows but all the blinds were drawn and it appeared dark behind them. Dipper jiggled the knob. It was unlocked, but as he started to push it open it stuck. He threw his body against the door; it held firm.

 

“I got this, Dipdop.”

 

Mabel gently shoved her brother out of the way, ignoring his protests. After a deep breath she lunged at the door, putting all her weight against it, and it swung open.

 

Having landed face first on the ground, Mabel picked herself up and dusted off. Then she held out an arm, offering Dipper the chance to go in first. He stomped past her petulantly.

 

The diner was pitch black. Even leaving the front door open graced them with little light to see by. They stumbled around, knocking into booths and stools. There was a faint rustle across the diner, near the kitchen. 

 

Dipper took out one of the extra candles he’d thankfully packed, the only one that hadn’t broken into unusable pieces. It gave off a weak beam, but at least they could see a few steps in front of them.

 

Dipper swept the light around the diner, noting how derelict it seemed. Chairs were broken, tables weren’t cleared of their last meals which were now rotting and stunk, dust coated every inch, and spiderwebs hung all around. There was even one sticking to the ends of Mabel’s hair that Dipper pointed out.

 

While she frantically pulled it out Dipper shone the candle on the kitchen doorway. A shadow shifted on the edge of the flame and he moved the light just a bit. 

 

There, reaching almost to the ceiling, was a hulking pile of creatures that once could have been cats. Once, because now their faces were distorted and it seemed like their normal two eyes had been twisted into many. They also had spindly appendages growing from their torsos that reminded him very much of spiders.

 

“Ooh, boy.”

 

Disturbed by the light, one of the creatures raised its head and hissed. Dipper quickly moved the light off of the living pile.

 

Mabel came right up behind him so she wouldn’t have to speak loud, not wanting to rile the creatures any more. “Dipper, what are they?”

 

“Honestly, Mabel? I think that’s one mystery I don’t need an answer to.”

 

Dipper ran the light around the room again, careful to avoid the cat-spiders, as Mabel gazed through the stone. There was nothing in the main part of the diner; they’d have to try the kitchen.

 

They eased over to the doorway, keeping the candle shielded from the creatures. The twins even held their breaths until they were a few steps into the kitchen. 

 

It was just as disgusting in here. Decaying food (or what once might have been food) littered the grimy sinks, counters, stovetops. Mabel and Dipper had to cover their noses and mouths before they gagged.

 

They hurriedly searched for another soul or any sign of their grunkles. Over by the fridge something gave off a familiar glint. Holding the candle out towards the area showed it was behind some sort of grayish white film stuck up on the wall like a cocoon.

 

As they got closer they realized that there was something else inside the film. They could make out an outline of a person with a very large oddly shaped head and eight limbs. Or it could be two people closely entwined together. Regardless, in one of its hands was the second soul.

 

They heard rustling in the other room. Dipper flashed the candle over and cat-spiders scurried around the light, blocking their exit.

 

“We’ll deal with that later,” Mabel said with faux nonchalance. 

 

She reached out and tried peeling away a bit of the film in front of the soul. It was both sticky and slimy, and Mabel feared it might cling to her skin even after a long, hot shower. Pushing those thoughts away she focused on the task at hand.

 

With a deep breath Mabel some of the film aside, enough to uncover the fingers gripping what they needed. First she tried to yank the marble away, but it wouldn’t budge. So she attempted to pry the cold, stiff fingers off it.

 

For a moment it seemed like the creature wouldn’t let go, but suddenly all ten digits loosened at once, and the marble fell into Mabel’s hand. 

 

Whereas the other was blue, this soul glowed a brilliant purple.

 

Dipper reached out and uncovered more of the creature. He shone the light directly on its face, realizing it was in fact a single creature and not too. Not anymore, anyway. Before it had been the Other Susan and Other Juanita. Now, though, it was a smashed up version of them. Their skin looked melted together, bits of it dripping like no one had turned down the heat. 

 

One of the creature’s hands snapped out, grazing Dipper’s face with sharp nails. He hollered and fell back, candle jumping out of his grasp. It rolled underneath a counter, obscuring the flame and throwing them into almost total darkness.

 

“Dipper!”

 

“I’m trying!” he yelled back, scrambling over to the candle.

 

Something made a grab for Mabel, but thankfully it was too slippery to keep hold of her. She took several steps back, clutching the marble to her chest.

 

Two terrible voices merged as one screeched at them, a sound unlike anything the twins had ever heard before. It was both high and low, nasally and hoarse.

 

“Thieves!” it screamed. “Thieves! Give it back to us!”

 

Dipper retrieved the candle and trained it on the creature. It spat and clawed at the air in front of them. 

 

“They— _it’s_ stuck. Let’s get out of here before it finds a way free.”

 

They turned, only to see the cat-spiders had started to crowd the kitchen.

 

“What are we gonna do, Dipper?”

 

“I’m open to suggestions.”

 

An idea struck her. She rifled through her backpack and pulled out her grappling hook. Warning her brother to hold on tight she grabbed him around the waist and fired the device. It wrapped around a bar on the ceiling holding pots and pans. The twins flew up and over the hoard, swinging into the main part of the diner and candle slipping from Dipper’s grasp into the fray. They landed in a heap on the floor.

 

“Run already!” a ghostly voice demanded.

 

They got to their feet and raced out of the diner, slamming the door shut on dozens of growling cat-spiders. Sure the creatures couldn’t follow, they fell to their knees panting.

 

“I’m glad our grunkles have good taste,” Mabel commented, happily placing this marble with the other.

 

Dipper grinned and nodded in agreement.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I just love having the henchmaniacs as toys. Kinda wish I could have them irl.


	11. Chapter 11

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The other Stan is feeling generous, and gives the kids a nudge in a direction. Not necessarily the right one, but what do you really expect from this guy?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter has more allusions of abuse towards other Ford, and some minor body horror but again nothing you wouldn’t find in the book or show.

Mabel and Dipper gazed around the world as they passed the last of the juice between them. The fog had rolled in even closer, like it was trying to suffocate them. Most of the small world, if it even still existed, was completely obscured now. The twins didn’t dare walk into it.

 

The house itself looked angry. It also seemed beat up, worn down. The roof was drooping over the front, and they couldn’t help wondering if it would collapse. The windows, too, were at angles that made them think of narrowed eyes.

 

Other Stan was waiting for them in the front, leaning against the porch railing. He didn’t look pleased at all, which just encouraged the twins.

 

As they came up to him Dipper announced, “Two down, one more soul to go.”

 

Other Stan’s mouth twisted cruelly. “And your grunkles.”

 

His voice seemed to come from more places than just his mouth. The house, the sky, the fog all echoed his taunt.

 

Mabel frowned. Dipper, meanwhile, snarled, “We don’t need this. Come on, Mabel.”

 

“What, you don’t want a hint, Pine Tree?”

 

“We’ve been doing fine on our own.”

 

“Oh, sure, but what if you wanted to look in the other flat next door, then where would ya be?”

 

The twins glanced at this, silently pondering between themselves. Finally Mabel said, “I bet we could break in.”

 

“Why bother when you could have the key?”

 

“We’re not making another deal,” Dipper told him warily. Other Stan smirked.

 

“No need. This is just a little nudge in the right direction from your loving grunkle, kids.”

 

Before they could decline the offer Other Stan arched his back and let out a tremendous cough. He held out his hand and hacked out a small brass key.

 

Mabel and Dipper made similar expressions of disgust. Unfazed, Other Stan tossed the key casually towards them. Without thinking Mabel caught it. Then, immediately repulsed at the damp thing, threw it at Dipper, hitting him in the face. It stuck.

 

“Ugh, Mabel _why_?”

 

After pulling it off him and wiping the key clean on his shorts the twins turned back to Other Stan. He was gone.

 

“Hm, suspicious,” Mabel commented, narrowing her eyes at the spot where he had been. “You still have gunk on your face, by the way.”

 

He cast her an unimpressed look then headed for the front door to the empty flat. Dipper stood in front of it, key in his hand, peering closely at the unassuming door.

 

“Think it’s a trap?” Mabel asked, coming up beside him.

 

A ghosty voice scoffed. “Obviously. Like that creature would help you.”

 

“Nope,” Dipper agreed. “Ready?” 

 

Mabel nodded and he unlocked the door. It swung open silently. The twins walked in.

 

No one had lived there for quite some time it seemed. The walls were a faded white, with outlines of where photos used to hang. The old wooden floor was coated in so much dust they left footprints in their wake. There was no furniture, either, just scratches on the floor where they had once stood.

 

This flat’s layout was slightly different from their own, yet they had no problem finding the empty kitchen, empty bathroom, and several empty bedrooms. The place seemed deserted, and though Mabel kept her eye trained through the stone there didn’t seem to be a soul anywhere they had looked so far.

 

Then, in one of the bedrooms, Dipper spied a large metal ring set into the floorboards. He reached down and tugged it upwards. 

 

It took all his might, but soon a hinged square of the floor lifted with a terrible groan. It opened onto darkness. Dipper stuck his hand in and felt around. He found a switch and flicked it; thankfully a dim light came on below. They could see stairs leading down, but nothing else. A strange scent wafted up, something repugnant that burned the hair in their noses. 

 

“This looks promising,” Mabel said, peering down the steps through the stone. She saw nothing, though.

 

“This looks like a death trap.”

 

“Probably,” Mabel happily replied, starting down. She kept the stone pressed against her eye.

 

There were footfalls behind her as Dipper followed. In front there was only grayness. A very deep grayness, and Mabel realized the other half of this secret cellar was still shrouded in darkness.

 

She lowered the stone and looked around. There on the wall was another switch, and it turned on another light. It was even dimmer than the first, however, and flickered.

 

“This place in not very cozy,” she decided, looking around.

 

The walls were either painted black, or at least something very close to black. The floor was cement and, they realized as they walked further into the basement, sticky. It was littered, too, with trash. There were piles of moldy and rotting books, broken pieces of machinery, and things they could not even recognize.

 

Behind one of the large metal pieces something moved. 

 

The twins paused, holding their breath. Nothing jumped out at them after a few moments, and they grew curious. Cautiously they approached it, and as they neared they saw a pair of dirty boots poking out.

 

Together they pulled the metal aside, revealing something that was once familiar. Now, however, Other grunkle Ford was a pale, shivering mass. One of his black button eyes was slipping down his face that no longer held any other defining features such as mouth or nose, and his spindly arms were twisted behind his back at an unnatural angle they imagined must hurt greatly.

 

Mabel let out a choked gasp. She was by his side in a flash, ignoring Dipper’s words of caution. Laying a comforting hand on the side of his putty-like face she asked, “Did he do this to you?”

 

For a moment he simply stared at her, and even with only eyes he conveyed such pain that her heart broke for what seemed the hundredth time in just the past few days.

 

Dipper came over behind his sister and peered down at the poor creature.

 

“I know he’s not our grunkle Ford, but man, I hate seeing him like this.”

 

“Even if he’s not our real grunkle he doesn’t deserve this! He never hurt us like the other Stan. Other Stan was forcing him to trick us into staying.”

 

“I know, but I don’t think there’s anything we can do.”

 

“But Dipper…”

 

Mabel bit her lip, willing the tears pooling in the corners of her eyes to go away. Now was not the time; she needed to be strong for other Ford.

 

A hole opened on the other Ford’s face, in the general area a mouth might go. Strands of something resembling aged stuffing burst out, sticking to the clay texture of his skin. A piteous little voice whispered, “Mabel, Dipper.”

 

“Oh, grunkle Ford, I’m sorry. This is our fault, isn’t it?” Mabel assumed. “He put you down here because we talked to you while he wasn’t there.”

 

He started to shake his head, but groaned at the effort. 

 

“Children,” he rasped, “don’t pity me. You need to get out of here.”

 

“Trust me, that’s the plan,” Dipper responded. “We need to find our grunkles and the last soul of the ghost kids, though. Can you help us?”

 

“There is nothing down here but broken things he doesn’t need anymore.”

 

Suddenly other Ford jerked out of Mabel’s gentle touch.

 

“Go!” he urged. “Run! He’s trying to make me harm you so he can win and keep you here forever. I can’t hold him off for long.”

 

“You have to try,” Dipper urged.

 

“You’re stronger than Other Stan. We believe in you.”

 

Resigned to his fate other Ford denied, “Alas, I am not. There is one thing I can give you both, though—time. Use it wisely.”

 

Mabel rose as her brother vowed, “We’ll beat Other Stan, don’t worry.”

 

Other Ford gave a dry chuckle, his arms twitching behind him. “That’s not his name, you know.”

 

“Then what is it?”

 

He told them, then cautioned, “Names have power, but that power can be double edged. It’ll awaken a great anger in him to know you’ve found him out. He doesn’t like to be reminded where he came from. Now go, children.”

 

The twins edged back as he began to convulse. He let out a terrible roar full of ire and anguish, body arching back as he fought off the other Stan’s influence. They hurried up the stairs, the wails following them.

 

For a second they watched what had been an image of their grunkle flop and writhe on the floor. That was all they spared before they closed the heavy trapdoor, sealing the poor creature in.

 

They wasted no more time in that flat, going outside and locking the door behind them. Dipper slid the key underneath the mat, then they walked down the porch steps. There was no sign of the other Stan, or anyone for that matter. The mist clung closer to the house. They didn’t want to walk through it, but they had no choice.

 

“I want to go home,” Mabel said, shivering. She hugged herself, and Dipper did the same.

 

“We’re almost home,” Dipper said. Softer, more to himself, he repeated, “We’re almost home.”

 

They walked around the side of the house and up the stairs to the topmost flat.

 


	12. Chapter 12

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> There's only one more soul to go, then the kids can save their grunkles.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Tread carefully because this chapter does have some discussions of transphobia the twins have faced.

Neither Mabel nor Dipper had ever been up to old man McGucket’s flat in their world. Not that it would matter much, they supposed, since so many things were different on this side of the door. Still, it would have been nice to have some idea what to expect.

 

“Do you think the raccoons will be there?” Mabel asked, voice hushed. Dipper screwed up his face.

 

“I hope not.”

 

Which meant, most likely, they’d be there.

 

“Just one more soul,” Mabel reminded, forcing on a confident grin. Her brother mirrored it.

 

“Then our grunkles.”

 

“Then _home_.”

 

In tandem they raised their fists in the air and chanted, “Pines! Pines! Pines!” the rest of the way up.

 

This flat had once been the attic, when it was a house years and years ago. The paint on the door was cracked and peeling. There was a triangular bird feeder tacked to the siding and Dipper slapped it down before opening the door.

 

Darkness stretched in front of them. They took a step inside, the sounds of scampering and chattering surrounding them. The ceiling was low, and Dipper figured if Mabel stood on his shoulders she could reach it. He wondered how a lanky man like McGucket could live there.

 

They could make out the white on the creatures’ mask-like faces, and knew they were being watched by dozens of black eyes if not more. As the twins came further into the flat, however, they darted away.

 

It smelled rotten. Once grunkle Ford had brought home a monster egg that went bad and stunk up their whole home for a good week. No matter how hard they had tried to wash them the kitchen curtains always had an air of rot to them and grunkle Stan had finally thrown them away. 

 

Other old man McGucket’s flat was so much worse than that. Was this what a dead body smelled like? Dipper shuddered and tried not to think about that.

 

“Little ones,” a hoarse voice rasped from another room. 

 

Dipper jumped, then glanced back at Mabel.

 

“The raccoons can’t talk, too, right?” she hoped.

 

“I think they can talk to _him_ , but can’t speak like Waddles. One talking animal is enough for me.”

 

The voice came again, beckoning them further into the flat. It promised it had what they were looking for, and the twins knew they couldn’t stand there any longer.

 

They crossed through several different empty rooms until they finally came to one at the very end of the flat; the vile stench was most powerful here. It was sparsely decorated, the only furniture being a single bed that held the room’s sole occupant. Like the rest of the flat it was dark, and the other old man McGucket sat half in shadows, bundled up in a too-large jacket and scarecrow hat pulled low. Strands of his white beard popped out from between the fastened buttons. Otherwise they couldn’t see any other part of him.

 

Other old man McGucket let out a heavy sigh. “What do you think will happen if’n ya do win, kids? You’ll go home is what. Your real grunkles will be there—instead of out on the open sea. And you won’t be going on any more adventures because you’re too young an’ they want ta protect you. It’ll be back to board games and old stories, and then school. 

 

“Remember the mean things they said to you before yer grunkle homeschooled ya? The little girl that stuck gum in your pretty long hair, Mabel? Or the boys who locked you into the bathroom after binding your hands behind your back with your own belt, Dipper?”

 

“We remember,” Dipper reluctantly assured. He reached out and gave Mabel’s hand a quick squeeze.

 

“I could name dozens of other instances! When bullies tricked Mabel into sitting on glue, ruining her brand new skirt. The mean names they drew all over Dipper’s desk. And what about the teachers? The ones who turned a blind eye, who said you brought it on yourselves for being _deviant_. Remember when your grunkle Ford had to explain what that word meant?”

 

They remembered the hitch in grunkle Ford’s voice like it hurt him to lay out in plain terms how much people could hate them for no reason.

 

“Stop!” Mabel finally snapped. She was trembling, and Dipper squeezed her hand again, this time not letting go.

 

“Is there a point to all this? We know exactly what it’s going to be like. It’s…it’s going to suck, but we have each other.”

 

“Exactly!” the other McGucket rasped insistently. “You’ll be miserable. Stay here instead. We’ll play with you, love you, and above all we’ll give you the adventure you crave. Your other grunkle can make whole new worlds for you to explore every day so you’ll never get bored. Doesn’t that sound nice?”

 

“And we’d never have to deal with bullies again?” Mabel asked.

 

“Never.”

 

“Grunkle Ford won’t be too busy with experiments he won’t let us help with?” Dipper wondered.

 

“No more rainy days where we can’t go outside and play?”

 

“Grunkle Stan wouldn’t try and toughen me up with boxing?”

 

“Only good things from now on, little ones. Sunny days where there’s always something new ta see or do, whenever ya want it.”

 

The twins shared a look. Mabel smiled sadly and Dipper shook his head, communicating in their silent way.

 

“That means no more staying up late and watching scary movies and grunkle Stan eating all the popcorn,” Mabel explained.

 

“No more grunkle Ford teaching us about the supernatural creatures they’ve seen,” Dipper added.

 

“No more grunkle hugs after nightmares, or grunkle Stan holding my yarn while I knit him a new sea pun sweater.”

 

“Or accidentally helping grunkle Ford set the front yard on fire.”

 

“Or running from cops with grunkle Stan after illegal back alley gambling.”

 

“Or arguing over what game to play, or grunkle Stan calling me a nerd.”

 

“Or grunkle Ford complaining when I get glitter all over his important notes.”

 

Both of them were smiling genuinely now, wide and happy.

 

“You just don’t get it, man.”

 

“We love our grunkles, and they love us. It’s not always easy, and maybe we fight sometimes or get upset with each other, but that’s family. We would never trade our grunkles for anything.”

 

Other old man McGucket gave a low, gravelly chuckle. With something in his voice like pride or relief he said, “I reckon I knew that’d be yer answer.”

 

Mabel raised the stone to her eye and peered at the old man through the hole.

 

“It’s hard to understand,” Dipper told him, “since you’re just a poor copy of McGucket that jerk made.”

 

“Less than that,” he admitted, and the twins had to agree he didn’t sound anything at all like the old man they knew back home anymore.

 

Mabel held the stone over Dipper’s eye and he saw what she had seen: a familiar glow from inside the other old man’s coat, about chest level—where the heart would be. This one was dark green with specks of a lighter shade twinkling around.

 

Dipper took a step towards him, hoping to just reach over and snatch the soul. Other McGucket toppled over before he could get near, however, and far more raccoons than seemed possible poured out of from under his coat, his hat, and scurried around them.

 

Dipper lifted a corner of the coat but it was empty. He turned back to Mabel who was already scanning the rest of the room with the stone. She let out an exclamation, pointing towards the door.

 

One of the raccoons had a small marble in its paws. It looked directly at either twin then slipped away.

 

They raced after the oversized rodent. Other raccoons tossed themselves in front of the twins, some trying to trip and some who had no qualms with scratching any bits of flesh they could sink their claws into. Spurred on by sheer determination to have their family reunited, the kids did their best to ignore the critters.

 

The one with the marble ran through the front door. Dipper hopped over a raccoon who swiped at his legs, nicking his ankle. The spot exploded in pain, but Dipper grit his teeth and pushed forward.

 

He made it to the top of the stairs outside before Mabel, in time to see their target scurrying down the bannister. Dipper hurried took the steps, eyes trained on the raccoon.

 

Then he heard his sister shriek, and felt something heavy against his back. 

 

The twins went tumbling down to the concrete below, landing in a tangle of limbs. Dipper’s hands were scratched up, his left palm skinned enough for prickles of blood to start mixing with dirt. Mabel, meanwhile, picked pebbles that felt more like shards of glass from her scraped knees. 

 

They helped each other up and looked around. The raccoon, and the last soul, was gone.

 

“Dipper…” Mabel murmured, voice more small and hopeless than he had ever heard.

 

“It’s okay, Mabel. We just have to…we just have to look around some more. In the incredibly thick fog. For a very tiny marble that could be anywhere, even someplace we’ve already looked.”

 

Dipper let out a chuckle that was closer to hyperventilation and leaned against the railing. Mabel place what she hoped was a comforting hand on his shoulder.

 

Someone cleared their throat behind them.

 

The twins turned and saw Waddles. Under one of his feet was the raccoon who weakly struggled to no avail. Just out of its reach was the marble, sparkling in the moonlight.

 

“I believe you’re looking for this.”

 

He stepped down hard on the raccoon and the ensuing crunch echoed through the otherwise still night. Like the one Waddles had killed before, it transformed into a shadowy tendril and faded away. 

 

“Waddles!” Mabel exclaimed, throwing her arms around the pig. “You’re the very best!”

 

“Thanks, man,” Dipper said, retrieving the soul before anything else could snatch it away. He winced at the pain each movement of his hands brought.

 

“Thank you,” whispered a ghostly voice, “but it is not over. He will never let you go.”

 

“Yeah, I know,” Dipper assured, handing the soul over to Mabel. She put it with the rest.

 

“That’s all of them,” Mabel said, patting her pocket. “Now, our grunkles.”

 

“That’s the easy part.”

 

The twins shared a look in their secret, silent language. They knew exactly where grunkle Ford and grunkle Stan—the real ones—were.

 

“Thank you so much for everything you’ve done to help us, Waddles. But now we have to get our grunkles and get out of here. Use one of your special exits to get out before he finds you. We’ll see you back home.”

 

The pig’s head snapped up and his tail twitched erratically. 

 

“You alright?” Dipper asked.

 

“Look,” the pig urged.

 

They turned, and their eyes landed on a house that looked like it was collapsing in on itself. The steps were melting right off the porch. Part of the roof appeared to have crumbled in on itself, making the whole place look like an angry face. 

 

“The ways in and out of this world are gone,” Waddles informed.

 

“That doesn’t sound good.”

 

“It is not.”

 

Mabel reached down and stroked the distressed pig. She could feel how fast his heart was beating and bit her bottom lip in worry.

 

“It’s okay, we’ll take you home, Waddles. You’re family now, and you’ve got to meet the grunkles anyway.”

 

Waddles pressed gratefully against her leg, licking one of her injured knees. 

 

“Time to end this once and for all,” Dipper said with all the confidence her could muster.

 

Mabel gave him a thumbs up, then together they walked up the slippery steps to their flat one at a time, Waddles close behind. Their feet stuck like they were walking across chewed up gum.

 

Finally they made it to the twisted door. It still opened when Dipper turned the knob, and the trio walked into the debilitated building.

 


	13. Chapter 13

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The twins confront the other grunkle.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Just two chapters left after this one, folks! One will be posted on Sunday, then on Halloween we’ll finally wrap this little thing up.

The inside looked much the same as it always had, if a bit darker. Things weren’t falling to pieces in here, or melting, or all twisted up. There were more shadows creeping down the hall and in every doorway, however. What was casting them the twins couldn’t say. They seemed to have no rhyme or reason; they simply _were_.

 

_He_ was waiting for them.

 

“Shooting Star, Pine Tree,” he drawled, stepping out of a shadow towards them. “Welcome back. And you even brought dinner, how thoughtful.”

 

“Monster!” Mabel yelled, standing in front of Waddles defensively. Other Stan simply chuckled.

 

Dipper stalked past him, heading down the hallway. He heard first Mabel’s footsteps then the pitter patter of a four legged creature follow after. He could feel Other Stan’s one yellow eye on them.

 

“You kids are a riot, you know that?”

 

Dipper didn’t dignify that with a response, though Mabel blew a raspberry at him. 

 

Stopping in the middle of the room with the yellow door, Dipper glanced around. It was the same as it was before: a perfect replica of the room on their side. Almost.

 

It was hard not to stare at the yellow door that had brought them here. Home was so close, but they still had one last thing to do. Then they could all sit on the couch with their favorite snacks to watch all the movies they owned, and he wouldn’t even complain when Mabel put on her supernatural romance ones. Not even if it was ‘Werewolf Prom Part IV’.

 

Other Stan had followed them in, crossing the room so he stood between them and the mantlepiece. He looked at them expectantly. When no one spoke up he held out his arms and asked, smirk on his face like he wasn’t worried at all, “Well? Where are they?”

 

Mabel took out the three pale marbles from her secret sweater pocket. Other Stan reached out a gloved hand for them, but Mabel quickly pulled them away. Putting them back into her pocket she held up a finger and wagged it disapprovingly.

 

“Ah, ah, ah, mister. The game’s not done yet.”

 

For a second a scowl passed over his face, but he quickly plastered on another smile.

 

“Guess I’m getting ahead of myself, Shooting Star. After all, you still need to find those grunkles of yours. And time is ticking.”

 

“We know exactly where they are.”

 

Pointing at the yellow door Dipper said, “You had to put them in the one place we couldn’t look—in the passageway between houses.”

 

Other Stan’s smile got even wider. “That your final answer, Pine Tree?”

 

The twins nodded. Other Stan reached into his jacket and giddily produced the old black key. With an extravagant flourish he strode over to the yellow door, inserted the key, and pulled the door open.

 

As he was doing so the twins inched closer to the mantle under guise of getting a better look. Mabel even made a show of peering into the darkness beyond when other Stan turned back to them.

 

“I don't see them,” he taunted.

 

“Look harder.”

 

He humored them, if only to draw out what he thought was his victory. With other Stan’s face turned away Dipper reached for the snow globe.

 

“What have you got there, Pine Tree?”

 

Even though he was still smiling there was a tint of anger on his face now.

 

“Our grunkles,” Dipper answered, clutching the globe to his chest.

 

“We win, _Bill_.”

 

“Well, well, well,” other Stan— _Bill_ said, straightening. He seemed taller than he had before, certainly taller than their grunkle whose face he’d stolen. “So you know who I am.”

 

“That’s right! And we know you don’t love us, you just want to eat us!”

 

First Bill snickered. Then it grew into a thunderous laugh unlike anything they had ever heard come out of their grunkle. The sound was much higher pitched than his gravely voice, and it shook the room. 

 

Dipper’s fingers nearly slipped off the globe, but at the last second he managed to reclaim a grip on the base. He quickly shoved it into his backpack and, remembering his birthday present, grabbed the brass knuckles before zipping it up tight.

 

“You kids think you’re pretty smart, huh? Ha! You’re just like all the other unhappy little meatbags—always wanting more.”

 

“And what do you want?” Mabel wondered. 

 

Bill smirked and said, “More.”

 

His body grew larger, until his top hat was bent by the ceiling. Bill wasn’t just expanding, though; he was exploding right out of his skin.

 

It burst off him like a lizard shedding, or maybe more like a butterfly breaking free of its cocoon since he no longer looked like their grunkle. But butterflies were beautiful. This new form was monstrous.

 

Bill’s new body was blood red, and of all shapes a pyramid. In two places it opened, and out flopped several tentacles from around jagged gold teeth. At least eight different limbs all glowing gold protruded from every side, each ending in five sharp looking claws. He still only had one eye, a large black oval taking up the top half of one side, a golden slit in the middle.

 

“So, kids, who wants to watch the other one be devoured? Your choice.”

 

“Mabel, run!”

 

They took off, racing into the hallway. Waddles ran between them, squealing in fear.

 

“Hey, come on! It’ll be fun!” Bill cackled.

 

Neither of them had ever given it much thought, but houses were filled with dead ends. With four walls, a floor, and a ceiling it made sense. It didn’t make things easy, though.

 

The one good thing was that Bill was so bulky and the flat wasn’t built with his new form in mind so he couldn’t maneuver around very fast. He got stuck on doorways, having to plow through them and rip the frames off.

 

Still, there was only one place to go: outside.

 

They slammed the door behind them and hid to the side. The fog was so dense that nothing but whiteness could be seen past the steps. Walking out into that didn’t seem like a good idea.

 

Bill came roaring out, tearing the door off its hinges and a good chunk of the wall, too. The twins and Waddles slinked past him and back the way they had come.

 

“Oh, wow, kids, you really think you’re clever. Where are you going to go, though? There’s nowhere left to run, Shooting Star, Pine Tree!”

 

“You sure do like being wrong, Bill,” Dipper hollered back as they rounded into the room with the yellow door.

 

Bill had left it open.

 

Mabel grabbed the key and they ran into the corridor. It was colder in there, like walking into an icebox. Dipper grabbed the handle and began to pull it shut. 

 

“Hurry, Dipper!”

 

“I’m trying! This door is way heavier than it looks.”

 

Mabel joined him, but even with the two of them it was proving a herculean task. They had it only part way shut when Bill clambered into the room towards them. He grabbed the door with two hands and bent down so his huge eye was on the same level as the twins.

 

“The fun’s just getting started, little meatbags! You’re not going anywhere.”

 

Dipper reeled back with the hand he had slipped the brass knuckles on and punched Bill square in the eyeball. He staggered back with a tremendous cry.

 

“My eye! If I had my full power I’d rearrange your molecules!”

 

That bought them a few moments, but Bill would recover soon. Dipper grabbed the iron handle and the twins continued to pull with all their might. It hardly budged.

 

They could feel someone else in the corridor with them. Mabel turned around and saw a three ghostly wisps watching them.

 

“Please, help us!”

 

A trio of translucent hands covered theirs and the door began to inch closed. At the rate they were going, however, they’d be in Bill’s clutches before it was fully shut.

 

Then two voices that sounded so much like their grunkles—their real grunkles, their wonderful, amazing, loving grunkles—spoke up. 

 

“Pull, children! You almost have it!”

 

“You’re doing great, kids. We’re proud of ya.”

 

More transparent hands joined theirs, and the twins felt a surge of strength. With one good yank the door pulled back almost to the frame.

 

“No!” Bill screamed, and something darted in-between door and frame that swiped at the twins. 

 

They dodged the wiry talons and, strength from the others flowing through them, slammed the door shut. There was a sickening crunch, followed by a howl and the sound of something falling to the ground.

 

“We should hurry,” Waddles advised.  

 

Linking arms the twins ran as fast as they could manage in the darkness, each keeping a hand on the wall so they wouldn’t get turned around. It radiated heat, however, in complete opposition of the coldness surrounding them. It intensified the farther they went until the walls were scorching and they snapped their hands back.

 

Wind whipped around them angrily. Never had a corridor been longer. It even felt like they were going uphill, now, and the twins wondered when it would ever end.

 

Faintly they could make out five figures in there with them, the ghost children and their grunkles. It spurred them on. Waddles was still at their side, too.

 

There was something else scuttling about in the dark. It flitted between their feet and almost tripped them up. Mabel and Dipper nearly lost hold of each other, but managed to find their twin again and keep going.

 

Suddenly there was a light up ahead. Small at first, but it grew and grew, and they knew they were almost home.

 

The ghosts had all disappeared, but the twins had no time to dwell as they ran through the open door into their flat. Dipper slammed the door shut and Mabel locked it. They shared a smile at the satisfying clink of the ancient lock. 

 

Mabel pocketed the black key and looked around. Waddles stood in the middle of the room shaking.

 

“It’s okay, we’re home now,” she soothed, coming over and gently caressing the pig. “You’re a Pines now. You’re safe.”

 

Waddles snorted and butted his head against hers.

 

Dipper went over to the window and pushed the curtain aside. He saw real daylight illuminating real trees, real birds, real sky, real _everything_ with such vibrant colors that he thought they’d never get to see again. There wasn’t a single strand of mist in sight.

 

“We’re home,” he murmured. Then, turning to his sister, he repeated much louder, “We’re home!”

 

Mabel looked around, biting her bottom lip. “Where’s grunkle Stan and grunkle Ford?”

 

Dipper scratched the back of his head nervously. “They’re…they’ll come. We just need to wait.”

 

Mabel nodded and went over to the armchair. She plopped down, then patted her lap. Waddles hopped up into it and settled down. 

 

“Then we’ll wait.”

 

She scooted over for Dipper and he climbed up next to her and Waddles. The pig’s breathing soon evened out as he dozed off. It was a comforting rhythm, and soon their eyelids were growing heavy. They barely noticed themselves drift into a deep, deep sleep.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Honestly, I'd watch something called ‘Werewolf Prom Part IV’. Bonus points if it's the first in the series.


	14. Chapter 14

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Everyone is home safe and sound once more. Probably?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> There's some familial comforting finally. These poor kids need it.

Someone was shaking them awake.

 

The twins opened their bleary eyes and blinked away the crust of sleep. Grunkle Stan and Ford were smiling down at them. Their grunkles, no black buttons or yellow eye in sight. They exclaimed their grunkles’ names and threw their arms around the old men who laughed and hugged them back.

 

“Whoa, easy kids. You’re pretty roughed up,” grunkle Stan said.

 

“Yes, we’d better take care of those scrapes,” grunkle Ford agreed.

 

“Us? What about you?” Dipper countered, pulling back just enough to look them over. Mabel did the same.

 

“Yeah! You were grunkle-napped, then shrunk into a snow globe, and then you were ghosts and we thought—“

 

“We’re fine, pumpkin,” grunkle Stan interrupted, smoothing out her hair.

 

He picked her up and grunkle Ford did the same with Dipper. There were no protests as they took the twins to the bathroom, even though usually Dipper would complain about not being a child anymore. In fact, he was disappointed when he was put down. 

 

As their grunkles cleaned their wounds Mabel and Dipper recounted the adventures they’d had. The men listened in rapt attention, only interjecting praise here and there. 

 

“And that’s when we found the birthday gifts you got us,” Mabel said. “They’re amazing! Thank you so much!”

 

“Yeah, they really helped us out. Um, I hope you’re not mad we opened them early.”

 

“Of course not, my boy!” Grunkle Ford ruffled his hair. “I’m glad they were useful.”

 

“And you tried to talk me out of gettin’ Dipper brass knuckles. There’s a fighter in you yet, kid.”

 

When they finished their story their grunkles hugged them again. Grunkle Stan looked ready to cry.

 

“Come on, children. You must be starving after your ordeal.”

 

In answer their stomaches rumbled. Mabel took Dipper’s and grunkle Stan’s hand, then Dipper took grunkle Ford’s and they walked together into the kitchen. A familiar flab of pink was sitting at the table.

 

“Waddles!”

 

He let out a happy little snort as Mabel ran over and embraced him tight. 

 

“Hey, man,” Dipper greeted, waving at the pig.

 

“Grunkle Ford, grunkle Stan, meet the newest member of the family. Waddles, say hi.” The pig snorted again, but didn’t speak. “Huh, I guess he could only talk in the other world.”

 

“Bummer,” Dipper said, partially relieved even if having a talking pig would be neat.

 

“Even if he can’t speak he’s a welcome addition to the household,” grunkle Ford declared. 

 

He went over to Waddles as grunkle Stan started breakfast. He held out a hand intent on petting him, but to his surprise Waddles shook it instead.

 

“Aw, he likes you already, grunkle Ford. I knew you’d fit right in, Waddles.”

 

“I’m still making bacon,” grunkle Stan said. Mabel covered Waddles’ eyes as he took the package out.

 

The kids and grunkle Ford sat down at the table. Dipper leaned over and asked, “What was it like in that snow globe?”

 

“Quite bizarre. We were hardly conscious, and not quite aware of our surroundings. We were frozen in the middle of some vortex, unable to move or call out. Not something I ever want to experience again.”

 

“Good,” Mabel said, scooting her chair closer so she could wrap her arms around his middle. “I don’t want you to go anywhere like that ever again.”

 

“Don’t worry, sweetie, we’re staying right here.”

 

“I can’t believe that guy had the nerve to use my face! He besmirched my good name!”

 

“Grunkle Stan, aren’t you banned from a whole line of casinos?” Dipper pointed out.

 

“Hey, conning is an art form. Besides, stealing from the rich is wholesome. Trying to eat my little grand niblings isn’t.”

 

Grunkle Stan piled everyone’s plate high. He even set a plate of eggs on the floor for Waddles. The pig staid put, however, and grunkle Stan had to physically pick him up. Waddles struggled in his hold, but calmed down as soon as he was placed in front of the food. He tore into the meal, along with everyone else.

 

Afterwards they all settled onto the couch, the twins nestled between their grunkles and Waddles laying at their feet. Mabel and Dipper didn’t even make it halfway through ‘Quiet Hills’ before they fell asleep.

 

They shared a dream, which made them figure that it was more than just a dream.

 

They were in some sort of woods, in the middle of a clearing. It was a bright summer day, and the sun beamed down on them. It was nothing like the desolate woods from Bill’s world.

 

A very short boy in a strange blue suit was unfolding a tablecloth on the grass. Beside him a blonde girl was setting out food on a picnic table. 

 

Something launched itself at the twins from the side, nearly knocking them to the ground as it enveloping them in a tight embrace. It was another child, this one with black hair and round glasses. Faint silver wings like a butterfly’s protruded from her back.

 

“Thank you for saving us,” the butterfly girl said.

 

“Hey, no problem,” Dipper replied. 

 

“Yeah, it was nothing.”

 

“What you did was amazing!” the boy argued. 

 

“We couldn’t have done it without your help,” Mabel pointed out. “Thank you for helping us find our grunkles.”

 

“Enough of this sappy stuff,” the blonde girl cut in, rolling her eyes. Her smile betrayed her, though. “Come and eat already.”

 

They happily went over to the table and eyed all the delicious looking food. There were different sorts of sandwiches, fruits ranging from watermelon to coconut, cupcakes and candy, and even some strange looking food that involved sugar and flower petals that must have been the butterfly girl’s doing.

 

It was all so good, and the twins ate up every morsel. Then in the blink of an eye they were up and playing with the ghost children, running and shouting and laughing. The butterfly girl even picked Mabel up and flew her around. 

 

They never tired, thus never needing a break from the game they were playing that had no defined rules and seemed to be a mixture of several different games. No one won, no one lost. They all just had fun.

 

Then they were back on the picnic cloth, lounged out and eating bowls of ice cream. Butterfly girl had forget-me-nots in hers. Mabel’s was full of glitter and sprinkles. Two cherries were on top of Dipper’s scoops; his sister stole one.

 

“This is so much fun! I’m glad we got to see you again,” Mabel said.

 

“Well we had to say thank you,” the boy told her, “and goodbye.”

 

“You guys can find peace now, right?” 

 

“Now that we’re finally free, yeah,” the blonde confirmed. 

 

“Great.” Dipper breathed a sigh of relief. “I’m glad this is all over.”

 

A shadow crossed the ghost children’s faces, and the boy and butterfly girl looked away.

 

“What’s wrong?”

 

“It’s not over yet. For you two, anyway.”

 

“The bedlam still wants you,”  the boy added. “He’ll stop at nothing. He doesn’t like to lose.”

 

The twins shared a frown.

 

“It’s not fair,” Mabel whined. “We rescued you and our grunkles. It should be over now! It’s not _fair_.”

 

“You have already proven yourselves very brave and resourceful,” the butterfly girl told them. “You will be fine, just do not let your guard down.”

 

The five all stood and said their goodbyes. Mabel brought them all in for a group hug. Then she let go and the twins waved them into the forest. After that there was darkness.

 

The twins woke at the same time. Their grunkles were passed out, arms around Mabel and Dipper protectively. The movie had long ended, the dvd having skipped back to the main menu. 

 

There was a rustling sound just outside the door.

 

“Leave us alone!” Mabel hissed as loud as she dared, not wanting to wake up their grunkles. 

 

The creature, whatever it was, seemed to hesitate a moment before scuttling away. 

 

The twins detangled themselves from their grunkles carefully. Then they tiptoed out into the hall, stepping over the slumbering Waddles, and glanced around. There was no sign of the intruder. All the other doors were shut. They checked the kitchen, but it was empty. 

 

Mabel cracked the front door open to gaze up at the predawn sky. She heard Dipper call her name and glanced back in time to see something small and dark coming right for her. Eyes widening in horror and recognition, Mabel jumped out of the thing’s way. It raced out of the house and they could only watch it go. 

 

There was no mistake: it was Bill’s severed hand.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ooh boy, tomorrow's the finale!


	15. Chapter 15

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The kids hatch a plan to stop Bill once and for all.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The finale is here! Happy Halloween!

Mabel suggested that maybe they were sharing a bad dream. Dipper wasn’t convinced, though, so she couldn’t convince herself. Once again she found herself saying, voice almost a whimper, “It’s not fair.”

 

A surge of protectiveness washed over Dipper. He turned to his sister and assured, “Don’t worry, Mabes. Bill’s in our world now. We’ll take care of him once and for all.”

 

“That’s right, we’ve got the home advantage. And grunkle Stan and Ford will know what to do.”

 

“Uh, actually, let’s not tell them.”

 

Mabel’s eyes widened in disbelief. “But Dipper, isn’t that what made this whole mess in the first place?”

 

“Technically it was Bill’s fault for trying to, you know, trick us into staying so he could eat us.”

 

“And if we had told our grunkles about the other world they would have figured out something seemed fishy and probably wouldn’t have been grunkle-napped.”

 

She stared hard at her brother. His cheeks grew hot; he had been the one to suggest they keep it a secret, after all. Dipper rubbed the back of his neck.

 

“Let’s just go back to bed and figure it out in the morning, okay, Mabel?”

 

She relented and they went back to their snoring grunkles. It wasn’t as easy to fall asleep this time, fear bubbling up inside of them all over again, but they had been through so much is such a short time and their bodies demanded rest. 

 

——

 

Life had to go on, even after dealing with a monster that stole their grunkles and tried to sow buttons onto their eyes. School would start up in two days, and their grunkles were swamped with things that should have been done already. So the kids left them to their own devices for the afternoon and went to visit their neighbors. 

 

They had agreed to wait on telling grunkle Stan and Ford about Bill’s hand. Let them have a day to recuperate, and if Mabel and Dipper hadn’t stopped him before bedtime they’d say something.

 

Susan greeted them as chipper as ever. Then, noticing their new companion said, “Oh! Isn’t he just a cutie.”

 

Waddles snorted and Mabel translated, “He says ‘right back atcha’.”

 

Susan giggled and led them inside. Juanita insisted on reading their tea leaves.

 

“Ah, looks much better than last time. Except for this.”

 

The twins leaned forward.

 

“It looks a little like a hand,” Susan commented.

 

They took a look for themselves and had to agree. In either of their cups was a long fingered hand they had grown far too acquainted with.

 

“I’m sure it’s nothing to worry about,” Susan told them. She held out the plate of cookies and the twins took some. “Jeff, leave that pig alone, naughty kitty.”

 

The cat, who had squashed itself down on the coffee table and was batting at Waddles, pouted in the way only cats could. He launched himself at the twins and they scrambled out of his way. Perching himself on the back of the couch Jeff stared down at Waddles.

 

“Don’t mind him. He’s just a little overprotective today. Shmebulock was attacked by something in the middle of the night, poor thing.”

 

“Attacked?” Dipper repeated warily.

 

“By what?”

 

“Probably just a mouse. He’s fine, just shook up. Nothing to worry about.”

 

The twins shared a knowing look but said nothing.

 

When they left the couple’s flat they heard their names being called and glanced up. Old man McGucket was leaning over the railing and waving at them. Mabel, and even Dipper, waved back.

 

“Hi! How are the raccoons? We got a pig!”

 

“He looks mighty delicious,” McGucket replied. Mabel frowned. “Something’s frightened the raccoons, but I’m not sure what. Heard something but never saw it. I should lay out a trap. I think I have some left over hamburger.”

 

“I don’t think meat is what it’s after,” Dipper said.

 

“Not from a cow, anyway,” Mabel agreed, reaching inside her hidden sweater pocket and touching the black key. “Well say hi to your raccoons for us! We’ll have to introduce them to Waddles later.”

 

They exchanged goodbye waves and the twins went inside their own home. They paused right inside the entrance way.

 

“Dipper.”

 

He sighed. “I know, I know.”

 

First they scoured the house to make sure Bill’s hand wasn’t hanging around there. Then they went to their grunkles and had a very long talk. By the end they had come up with a plan.

 

That night everyone slept in the same room again, this time all of them piling onto grunkle Ford’s bed. Before joining them Mabel had shown Dipper the marbles. At some point they had cracked open like little bird eggs and whatever had been inside was gone. It was a good sign, they decided.

 

Dipper was almost asleep when a scratching sound jolted him up. Instantly alert he looked around. Everyone else was asleep. The scratching continued and he realized it was coming from the window.

 

He slipped out of bed, mindful not to wake the others. Then Dipper eased over to the window and pulled aside the curtain. An inhuman black hand greeted him. It even wagged its fingers in a sort of wave before leaping off the windowsill and out of sight.

 

Dipper tried to see where it went, but since he couldn’t open the window for fear Bill’s hand would sneak in, the appendage was lost in the shadows. He touched the cool glass where, on the outside, there were deep gouges and suppressed a shudder.

 

Creeping back to bed he nudged Mabel. With a yawn she came to, staring up at her brother curiously. She clutched worriedly at the black key she had tucked inside her sleeping gown when Dipper told her about their late night visitor.

 

Nothing else happened that night, but the younger twins tossed and turned relentlessly, so much so they eventually jostled their grunkles awake. They told Mabel and Dipper stories (some true, some pure fantasy, and all very light and happy) until they drifted off.

 

——

 

“We’re going out now!” Dipper called from the front door, already a foot past the threshold. 

 

Their grunkles popped out from the kitchen. 

 

“You gremlins have fun,” grunkle Stan waved off.

 

“Be home in time for dinner,” grunkle Ford added with a smile.

 

The twins gave their assurances and stepped outside, Waddles close behind. 

 

It was a gorgeous day; both siblings took a deep breath, savoring the crisp Oregon morning air. Since they’d returned from the other world the weather had been particularly pleasant, as though nature or the universe or whatever wanted to make up for what they’d been through. And what they still had to go through.

 

“Come on,” Mabel prodded, leading the way up to Susan and Juanita’s flat.

 

Susan answered, jaunty as always. She invited them in but the twins declined.

 

“Sorry, ma’am, we’re on a mission.”

 

“We just dropped by to see how Shmebulock is doing,” Dipper said.

 

“Well, isn’t that sweet of you? He’s much better. Still don’t know what attacked him, though. You kids watch out for something tiny and vicious.”

 

“Oh, we will. Well, we’re going to the well to get rid of a key to an evil mirror world,” Mabel announced, producing said key. “Bye!”

 

“Don’t fall in!” Susan warned.

 

“We’ll see,” Dipper mumbled under his breath. Mabel elbowed him in the side none too gently and he took a hard gulp of air. “Right, let’s do this.”

 

They walked along to the garden overgrown with weeds and wild flowers, chattering about nothing in particular the whole way. It was partly to calm their nerves, partly to mask the searching looks they cast about them. About thirty feet away they could see movement in the tall grass, and flashes of something very, very dark. They tried not to look too closely so they wouldn’t give away that they knew Bill was there.

 

Waddles pressed against Mabel’s leg. She could feel how much he was trembling, and whether it was with fear or from holding back the urge to charge the hand she didn’t know.

 

When they reached the well Mabel looked around for a small rock. Finding one, she dropped it down the knothole just like the first time they’d discovered it. With bated breath they listened for the _plop_. It seemed an even longer wait than last time.

 

The twins nodded at each other and started to pry up the old planks covering the well opening. It took a lot of effort, since they were just barely tall enough to reach, but thankfully the wood was old and beginning to rot. Eventually they were able to toss it all aside. 

 

Mabel and Dipper climbed up on the edge, careful not to fall in. Mabel brought the old black key out and held it up so the sun glinted off the antique metal.

 

“Something falls down there, it’s not getting back up,” Dipper commented. Mabel gave the ghost of a smile.

 

“Yup. Time to end this adventure, bro bro.”

 

They saw something lunge at them from out of the corner of their eyes. It was going for the key. Mabel jerked back, nearly toppling over into the dark abyss of the well.

 

“Mabel!”

 

“I’m f—” Mabel started, regaining her balance. She was interrupted by something latching onto her hand that held the key.

 

Bill’s hand tried to pry her finger’s apart, but she held on tight. Mabel furiously flailed around in an attempt to shake him off. Bill’s grip was equally strong, however.

 

“Ah! Dipper, do something!”

 

“Aw, man, this is not what was supposed to happen. Get off my sister, you jerk!”

 

Dipper reached over and grabbed the lanky limb protruding from Bill’s hand that would have been his arm if it were still attached. He tried not to think too hard about that. Dipper pulled back, but all that did was yank Mabel off balance. She teetered over the edge, threatening to drag them all down to the bottom of the old well.

 

Then there were strong arms around either of the twins, anchoring them. 

 

“I’ve got ya, pumpkin.”

 

“Hold tight, children.”

 

Relief washing over them the twins exclaimed their grunkles’ names as the men pulled them back from the well’s gaping mouth, depositing them safely on the ground.

 

Bill jerked out of Dipper’s grasp and struck out with two of his digits, leaving shallow gashes on his palm. Dipper recoiled, clutching the stinging hand against his chest.

 

“Don’t touch my brother!” Mabel yelled, slamming Bill against the stone well. She did this again and again until he slid pitifully to the ground. 

 

The hand seemed dazed for a moment. Then Bill picked himself up and darted off. Right into Waddles who had come over to block his only escape. 

 

Grunkle Ford snatched the hand up and threw it down the well.

 

Or at least that’s what he meant to do. Bill had other ideas, digging his digits into Ford’s flesh and making the man yelp. 

 

“Oh, no you don’t, wise guy.”

 

Grunkle Stan brought his fist down on the disembodied hand, loosening Bill’s hold on Ford. Stan punched him again, and Bill plummeted into the darkness below. His fingers twitched frantically in the air as though making one last desperate grab.

 

“Don’t forget this, Bill!” Mabel shouted triumphantly, dropping the key over the side.

 

The family waited, and soon there was a double _plop_ —one of the most satisfying sounds Mabel and Dipper had ever heard.

 

“I feel you could have done something that didn’t also injure me,” grunkle Ford mused dryly, rubbing his hand. Grunkle Stan shrugged.

 

“Probably.”

 

Grunkle Ford picked up the round sheet of metal they had brought with them and set about gluing it onto the well. There was a protective sigil carved into it, assuring that even if Bill managed to climb his way back up he couldn’t make it past this.

 

“Will glue really hold it?” Dipper wondered.

 

“Don’t worry, my boy, it’s magic glue.”

 

The younger twins stared hard at their grunkles. Mabel guessed, “Is it craft glue?”

 

“It’s craft glue,” the men sheepishly admitted.

 

“To be fair I had a strand of unicorn left over which I mixed in with it.”

 

Mabel and Dipper laughed, and their grunkles joined in. They headed home in high spirits, the kids holding their grunkles’ hands all the way.

 

——

 

That evening Mabel stood in front of her bed, examining the clothes she had laid out for tomorrow. It would be the first day of school.

 

Funny, she wasn’t really scared anymore. Maybe a bit nervous, but after everything that had happened she knew that as long as she had her family she could face anything. Especially if it was something as small as school.

 

There was a knock on her door and Mabel gave whoever it was the okay to come in. Dipper opened the door and crossed over to her.

 

“You done? Grunkle Stan just put the movie in.”

 

“‘Space Princess Vampire Killer’? Cool!” 

 

“Let’s go, then.”

 

He grabbed her upper arm and stared for the living room, pausing when she spoke up.

 

“Hey, Dipper? Are you scared for tomorrow?”

 

“Honestly? School doesn’t seem like such a big deal after Bill. I just hope we don’t have to write one of those ‘what I did over the summer’ essays.” Mabel giggled, and Dipper did the same. Then, softly, he said, “Tomorrow’s going to be a whole different adventure.”

 

“We’ll make it an amazing one,” Mabel promised.

 

They shared a smile, then joined their waiting grunkles. One of them had left the window open and Waddles was siting beneath it, gazing up at the darkening sky. A few stars were already visible. When the twins went over they could hear the faint sounds of a band playing coming from somewhere up above.

 

“McGucket’s raccoons,” Mabel said. “I can’t wait to see them perform.” Dipper agreed.

 

The twins settled onto the couch between their grunkles, Waddles climbing into Mabel’s lap. A pleasant wind blew in, reaching them even on the other side of the room. Mabel and Dipper smiled, and dug their hands into the bowl of popcorn.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Get rekted Bill. 
> 
> I had a lot of fun writing this and seeing you all enjoy it. Thanks for sticking it out!

**Author's Note:**

> It's finally here! Expect an update every Monday, Wednesday, and Friday, with another one the day before Halloween and Halloween itself.


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